


Missing

by JessicaMDawn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Magic, other pairings appear in the final chapter but are minimal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-05
Updated: 2011-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaMDawn/pseuds/JessicaMDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur is fatally wounded, Merlin makes a deal with a powerful sorceress: Arthur's life in exchange for everyone's memories of Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forgetting

**Author's Note:**

> So last year, about a month before my friend Mako's birthday, I decided I was going to make her an Arthur/Merlin music video as a gift. As her birthday drew nearer, I realized that I wasn't going to manage the video. So instead, I wrote her a story. The video was supposed to be a story vid to Missing by Evanescence, and the fanfic is based on that idea I had. I finished the first chapter the day before her birthday last year and gave the rest of the story to her as soon as I finished it afterward.
> 
> Anyway, I decided to post the story on her birthday this year so that everyone else could read it too, but NaNoWriMo was happening at the time and I was a bit busy, so now it's 12/5/10 instead of 11/21/10, but I'm getting it up - finally.
> 
> This story takes place in a divergent universe at the end of Season 2 in which Morgana never went with Morgause but the dragon still attacked Camelot.

Merlin stumbled out of the boat and onto the mossy stone floor of the Isle of the Blessed. His chest felt constricted and it was hard to breathe, but he had to get to the altar. He just had to. Nimueh was dead, but she couldn't have been the only keeper of the old religion. There had to be someone else here!

He had barely stumbled into view of the altar where so many lives had been toyed with when suddenly, in a brief flash of light, a woman stood by the altar, waiting. She had golden blonde hair down to the middle of her back and crystal clear forest green eyes that seemed to shine with an iridescent glow. She wore a simple green dress with almost see-through sleeves down to her elbows and a thin silver chain necklace.

"Emrys," she greeted, and her voice sounded like it was something from a dream, something not entirely there. Her tone held a bit of awe to it. "I never believed I would meet such a destiny so soon."

Something about her manner told Merlin all he needed to know. Still gasping for breath, he said, "You know why I am here."

She inclined her head a bit in agreement and gave a tiny frown. "The one you care for most lies dying in Camelot, the crowned Prince Arthur. The ban King Uther has placed on magic kept you from being able to stop the beast from wounding Arthur, and now he is beyond normal healing."

Merlin nodded shakily. "The last time Arthur was hurt, by the Questing Beast, I came here and offered my life for Arthur's. I don't want any tricks this time. I don't want to sacrifice anyone else, just myself. I need to save him."

The woman gave him an appraising look. "Would you give anything for his safety, Emrys?" Before Merlin could speak, she continued, "Anything of your own self?"

Merlin nodded fervently. "Anything of me. I would." He hoped the wording meant that his mother and village would be safe as well.

She donned an almost evanescent frown and faced the altar, but her voice was no softer facing away than it was when she stared directly at Merlin. "I will make you a deal I have waited a century to make." When she faced Merlin again, the frown was still barely there and a small crystal clear orb the size of a baby's fist sat in the palm of her left hand. "Arthur's life will be saved. No magic has decided his fate as of yet except your own," she explained, looking into Merlin's eyes with an almost forlorn aura. "This wound can be healed by powerful magic." Merlin felt the relief flood through him and he could breathe freely again. "But in exchange I will remove every memory of you from existence. No one, not even your own mother, will remember you ever existed."

Merlin wilted. "What?" he asked, his voice as airy as the sorceress's. No one would remember him? Not even Arthur? She tilted her head a bit and brought her perfect eyebrows together like she was already sorry for him.

"Memories are full of power. They are the essence of life, Merlin," she began, using his actual name this time. "A person will never truly exist if no one ever knows them. So by extracting the memories of you from the world, I essentially take your life. I will collect these memories and hide them away."

Merlin looked at the ground, suddenly unable to breathe once more. No one would remember him. His mother, the people of Ealdor, Gaius, Gwen, Morgana, Uther, Arthur….they would all forget him. He lifted his head and stared directly into her eyes. "I accept," he said with no hint of uncertainty. "I'll do it. Now please, save Arthur."

She nodded and closed her eyes before she waved her hand over the orb. Without a sound coming from her lips, an eerie silver mist eased its way out of the orb and then shot out into the sky and vanished like it had never existed. She opened her eyes and nodded again to Merlin. "You have one day to say goodbye to them. Then you must be gone from Camelot, and Ealdor, and never return."

Merlin nodded and rushed back to his boat. It took most of a day to get here going as fast as he could on horseback. He had no time to lose. He wouldn't be able to say goodbye to his mother, she was too far away, but he could bid Gaius, Gwen, Morgana, and Arthur goodbye. He'd just have to settle for that.

...

...

He jumped from the horse once he was back in Camelot and hurried into Gaius's rooms. Gaius wasn't there, so Merlin guessed he was checking up on Arthur. Maybe he'd already healed and he was checking on the miraculous recovery. Merlin quickly gathered his things and set them on the left side of his bed where Gaius wouldn't see them, and then took a few nic nacs from around the room that he wasn't taking with him and hurriedly left again.

Morgana was the first person he ran into, or, found. She was pacing in her room, obviously worried for Arthur, when Merlin knocked once and entered without waiting for permission. She probably would've gotten mad at him for it, but everyone was used to him doing that sort of thing so they just let it pass.

"Merlin," she gasped. "Have you heard how Arthur is doing?"

Merlin frowned and shook his head. "No. I was on my way there when I thought I'd come and give you something." From inside his jacket he pulled a flower Gwen had given him the day before, when Arthur had first been injured. "Gwen gave it to me to try and make me feel better, but I think it'd help you more than it'd help me," he admitted softly. After all, logic stated that boys don't like flowers as much as girls do, so she wouldn't question it.

In truth, he'd been a bit frightened when she gave it to him. It was a Cyclamen; a flower that meant resignation and was a symbol for goodbyes. But now, instead of meaning Arthur would die, it would mean Merlin was leaving so Arthur could live.

Morgana accepted the pretty pink flower delicately and smiled at him. "Why thank you, Merlin. That was very kind of you." A tear fell from her eye and she hurriedly wiped it away. "Um…could you go see how Arthur is doing? I think Gwen's there too so…."

Merlin smiled the best he could. "Sure." He hurried along the hallway towards Arthur's room and ran headlong into Gwen on the way there. "Oh! Gwen!" he gasped.

"Merlin!" she beamed. "It's a miracle! Arthur's wound is healed!" she said gleefully. Then she frowned a bit. "Of course Uther thinks the healing is due to some sort of magic, but does it really matter? Arthur's been healed!"

"That's great!" Merlin agreed with a big grin. At least Arthur was ok…

"Uther thinks all magic is evil, but how can it be when it saves his own son's life, right?" Gwen asked almost uncertainly.

Merlin nodded enthusiastically. "Right. That's exactly it. Uther just can't see things that way…but maybe Arthur will, when he is king."

Merlin was suddenly hit with a realization. All that he'd taught Arthur, almost indirectly, about magic…all that Arthur had learned to make him a better person…would that all go away? Would he go back to being the magic hating prat he used to be?

No. The memories of Merlin would leave, but the sorceress (who Merlin realized he had never even learned the name of) had said nothing about him losing the experiences he'd had. Even without Merlin there, everything Arthur had done was possible. He would be alright.

"Anyways, I should go see to Arthur," Merlin said with a gentle smile. "He's probably got a load of work for me to do now that he's better." He shook his head amiably and then pulled Gwen into a tight hug.

"Oh!" she gasped, but then smiled and hugged him back. She attributed the action to him being relieved about Arthur being safe now. Really, he was so devoted to Arthur it was cute.

When Merlin pulled back he was blushing. Then he remembered why he was looking for Gwen in the first place and pulled out a perfectly carved bird made of wood. He'd been practicing with his magic and this was the only quality piece he'd managed to create.

"Oh my goodness," Gwen breathed out. "Merlin, it's beautiful….I…Are you giving it to me?" she asked incredulously. Merlin nodded. She frowned gently. "Merlin, I couldn't. It looks like it took a lot of work."

"It did," Merlin assured her with a smile before gently forcing it into her hands. "But I want you to have it."

Before she could argue, he'd already rushed off to Arthur's room. He passed Gaius on the way, but only said that he'd talk to him about it later and then he was in Arthur's room and faced with a grim but healthy Arthur sitting up in bed with a tray of food on his lap. He looked up when Merlin came in.

"Ah," he let out. "And where have you been? You look terrible."

Merlin shrugged. "Worrying, mostly," he said truthfully. "Trying to find a cure for an incurable disease," he admitted offhandedly.

Arthur snorted. "Well, there was no need. I'm fine." But as soon as he said it, the smile left his face and he gave Merlin a curious look. After a moment he shook his head. "You've been slacking on your duties while I've been ill," he accused lightly, looking back to his food. He was being picky about what he ate again.

"Sorry," Merlin apologized. "Before I get to that, can I say something?"

"Go ahead, Merlin. You will even if I tell you not to," Arthur acquiesced.

Merlin noted the smile on Arthur's downturned face and smiled in return, except his was sad. "At times like these…when you get hurt…I can't help but feel the way I did when you were hurt by the Questing Beast." He knew Arthur remembered that time. Arthur looked up at him now, totally ignoring his food. "I meant every word I said…You know…I…," it was hard to speak. He was comforted only by knowing that Arthur would never remember this. Tears blurred his vision but he didn't let them fall. "I really don't know what I would do if you died."

Arthur looked at something to his right and said, barely above a murmur, "You'd move on."

Merlin shook his head. "No, I really don't think I would," he said at the same level. Arthur's eyes snapped back to Merlin's. "That's why….Arthur, before I go, I need to tell you something really important, and you can't call the guards. It wouldn't do any good by tomorrow morning."

"Merlin, what are you on about?" Arthur asked, moving on to the 'act like you think Merlin is being stupid' attempt to get over his confusion.

"Alright…," Merlin murmured to himself before his eyes flashed gold, staring straight at Arthur so he would have no problem seeing it.

The fire sparked into being, the dishes left from the last breakfast Arthur had eaten before the attack cleaned themselves, the curtains closed for the night, the plate with Arthur's food lifted so the covers could be smoothed and tucked in then it sat back down, and Arthur suddenly felt as clean as if he'd just had the best bath in his life.

Arthur wasn't breathing it seemed, so Merlin took the initiative and kept talking. "I'm a sorcerer, Arthur. I was born with magic and I think it was given to me so I could serve you, protect you, help you. I know you think I'm an idiot, but I'm trying real hard to use magic to help without getting caught and it's harder than it seems," he explained in a quiet rush. He took a deep breath. "I've got a lot of power, but I can't use it all yet….so when you got hurt and nothing I did would heal you…I went to a place called the Isle of the Blessed, a place filled with the magic of the Old Religion, and made a deal with a sorceress there to save you. And it worked. You're alright now."

Another few moments went by and Merlin could feel the day draining away. If Arthur didn't say something soon, Merlin would have to leave without ever knowing what Arthur thought of his magic. _Please, Arthur. Please say something,_ he pleaded in his mind. He never let his eyes stray from Arthur's.

"You made a deal with a powerful sorceress," Arthur began. "My wound was healed by magic." Merlin nodded shortly. "Merlin," Arthur said, "What did you give up?"

"I-"

"You said you made a deal, which means something was given up for me to get healed. I want to know what it was and you'll tell me immediately or I'll have you thrown in jail for a month," he threatened darkly.

Merlin closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. He didn't want to say it aloud. That would only make it real too soon. He heard Arthur growl low in his throat, a warning of his impatience. "I…" The tears slipped past his defenses and down his cheeks in two small, slow running rivers. "Just tell me, what do you think of me? Now that you know, what do you think of me?" He kept his voice as steady as possible under the circumstances.

Arthur bristled. "Does that really matter, Merlin? I want to know what the deal was. Tell me or-"

"I don't have a month, Arthur! I need to know what you think!" Merlin suddenly yelled, hoping it wasn't loud enough to draw the attention of the guards no doubt posted nearby in case of a sorcery attack. His eyes were still closed and now he lowered his head a bit.

Arthur's voice came out quiet, something Merlin had never expected, but held the same rough tone Arthur's voice always held. "I told you. It doesn't matter. You've drunk poison for me, Merlin, and faced my father for me, and followed me no matter where I go so you could save Camelot with me. You've fought monsters, sorcerers, trolls, and dragons with me. You told me you would be my servant until the day you died. I think that's enough to absolve you of the crime of sorcery, don't you?" He gave a little smirk, something akin to his usual blinding grins or teasing smiles.

Merlin managed to open his eyes and smile at Arthur for a brief moment and then he couldn't keep his eyes open for all the water in them as he cried a tiny bit harder. Arthur had accepted his magic. He accepted it and now he would forget all about it.

He heard the frown in Arthur's voice when he next spoke. "Merlin?" There was a pause and then, "Oh god. You didn't bargain your life, did you, Merlin? Tell me you weren't that stup-"

"I gave _everything_ but, Arthur."

And then he fled the room like a dog with its tail between its legs and ran like his life depended on it to Gaius's chambers. He heard no following yells from Arthur or guards, so he figured Arthur had heard what he wanted and that was all. Now all he had to do was deal with Gaius. Merlin stopped outside the door to Gaius's chambers and wiped his face and tried to make it seem as if he had not just been crying, then he opened the door.

"Merlin!" Gaius greeted, sounding like he'd been sitting and waiting forever. "What happened?"

Merlin smiled at him. "I met a sorceress on the Isle of the Blessed who agreed to use her magic to heal Arthur. She said it wasn't like the Questing Beast, whose victims were chosen by fate and must die, so she could heal him. And she did."

"That's it?" Gaius asked incredulously as Merlin meandered across the room to where he sat on a stool at the table.

Merlin shrugged. "That's it. He's healed, and nobody's dead. Now if you've got nothing for me to do….I'd really like to just fall down and go to sleep. I've been riding all day," he complained lightly, hoping it would fool Gaius. He hadn't lied. No one was dead. That didn't make him feel any better.

Gaius gave him a suspicious look for a few moments, and Merlin kept up his gentle smile. Then Gaius waved Merlin off. "Off to bed with you, then. Arthur'll want you up bright and early to do your chores tomorrow." He smiled goodnaturedly at Merlin and Merlin smiled back before he moved to his bedroom door, where Gaius called out to him again. "Uh, Merlin?"

"Yes?" Merlin asked, turning to face him.

Gaius raised an eyebrow at him. "You're sure everything's alright?"

Merlin nodded. "Yea." He almost turned to leave and then turned back again to his mentor and father-figure. "Gaius… thanks for everything."

...

...

Merlin waited what felt like a lifetime, but was probably about three hours, before grabbing his bags, stuffing his sheets and pillow inside, and sneaking out of Gaius's chambers. He didn't know when the spell would take effect and he'd be forgotten, but he knew it would be before sunrise and he didn't want to wake a Gaius that thought he was some sort of burglar.

He was out of Camelot, with a flare of golden eyes to distract the guards, in a mere ten minutes.


	2. Hoping

Arthur woke feeling refreshed and ready for the day. He felt better right now then he had in what felt like years. He wondered for a moment why the curtains weren't being drawn and why his breakfast wasn't here yet, and then he remembered that he'd fired his old servant….what was his name? a few days ago and hadn't gotten around to picking out a new one. It was the second servant he'd fired in a month and his father and Morgana were giving him hell for it, but he just didn't like them. They needed something, but he couldn't put his finger on what would make them the perfect servant.

In any case, he had knight training to get to before the meeting tonight to discuss the celebration of Camelot's founding. How many years was it now? Several hundred at least. Arthur didn't care. It just meant a party with lots of alcohol where everyone but him was allowed to get piss drunk and all the women in a two mile radius would try to sleep with him. What had it been….four years? Since he last took one of them to bed? But this time he might accept one of them at the feast. Just maybe.

Why would he want to bed some random woman when he'd turned his morals against it years ago? Well, because he'd felt a bit frustrated for three months now and no matter what he did, he never felt any better about it. He just had this nagging feeling that he was forgetting something, and item or an event or something and he couldn't figure out what it was. Most of the time he forgot about this nagging at the back of his mind, but sometimes, when he was alone, he could feel it picking away at him. He'd thought long and hard about it, but couldn't think of anything he'd forgotten, so he figured he would simply go about his daily life and, eventually, sooner or later, he'd remember what it was he'd forgotten.

Arthur sighed, ran a hand down and all over his face before finally sitting up and sliding out of bed to get ready for the day. He picked out his own clothes and dressed himself (thank you very much, Morgana) and then grabbed his sword and headed down to the armory to find some random page boy to secure his armor on well before he ventured out to train his knights. If he could rid himself of enough tension on the field today, he would be better put to refuse the requests of the ladies later.

...

...

Three months.

It had been three months and Merlin couldn't take it anymore. He had been alone in the Mountains of Isgaro for so long he thought he might go mad. That witch had not been joking when she said memories were your life. He had left Camelot knowing that Arthur was going to live and that everyone was alright and no one would miss him with a clear mind and conviction. Within a week he was craving human interaction, but he was too afraid to go into a city.

What if it wasn't just his past memories that would be erased, but any that he gave to people forever? What if he went to a city and got a job and lodgings, and then the next morning the owner of the inn or house or wherever he was staying woke up and didn't know him?

So he stayed hidden, alone, in the forests at the base of the mountains. He used magic to catch fish in the river near the small cave he'd taken residence in and small animals that wandered by. He tried not to use magic for awhile, but he was rubbish at hunting and fishing so using magic was the only way he could get food. He would've died without it.

Not that this could really be called living.

Right now he was walking aimlessly around the woods, looking for travelers. Anyone passing through here could hold news of Arthur and he needed to hear if anything bad was happening in Camelot. He didn't care if he wasn't supposed to go back to Camelot or not, if Arthur needed him he'd be back in a moment. Screw the consequences.

Actually, Merlin would go back for Arthur in a moment no matter what, danger or not. Everyday Merlin felt his heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces. The world turned grayer every day he woke up and had no one. He wanted to sleep in the little wooden bed in Gaius's chambers and drink nauseating potions, he wanted to see Morgana and Gwen and get picked on for flirting or being in love or whatever they wanted, and he wanted to see Arthur. He wanted to muck out the stables and do Arthur's laundry and change the bed sheets and put on Arthur's armour and wear that stupid festival hat and fight griffins and snakes and witches and drink poisons and try with every fiber of his being to hide his magic and his desire to hold Arthur and tell him that, more than anything, he simply wanted to be at Arthur's side forever, no matter his station or respect.

Merlin stopped walking and leaned against a nearby tree. The worst part about being alone…was knowing that no one would ever come looking for him. He could die and no one would know he'd ever existed. He was nothing to the world now. Not even the Great Dragon, a fellow exile, had reached out to him. His destiny was over. Merlin slid down the tree to sit with his knees to his chest and his head bowed in despair.

He had wanted that destiny. To watch over, protect, and guide Arthur into his kingship and beyond until the end of time…it would have been amazing.

"Hello, there," a familiar voice called out curiously. "Are you alright?"

Merlin lifted his head as if in disbelief and stared across the way at Lancelot walking towards him. He couldn't believe his eyes. Lancelot was here!

"Are you ok?" Lancelot asked again when he was closer in a softer tone. He was wearing peasant's clothes with a pack over his shoulder, where Merlin caught a glimpse of the chain mail Gwen had made him.

Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out. Lancelot just watched him patiently, a gentle smile on his face, and waited. Finally, "I'm fine, but t-thank you….for asking."

And he truly was grateful. This was the first time anyone had spoken to him in three months. Lancelot frowned.

"Are you sure? You look a bit worse for wear."

Merlin nodded but quickly returned his eyes to Lancelot's form. "Yea…I'll be fine."

"Alright then, if you're sure…" Lancelot still looked worried as he turned to leave and suddenly Merlin panicked.

"Hey!" he called loudly, and it sliced through the near silent forest air like lightening. Lancelot actually jumped before turning to him. "Where'd you get that chainmail?" he asked in a rush, wanting something to talk about.

Lancelot looked to his bag and then warily to Merlin again, still bunched up at the base of the tree. "A woman I met once, several months ago, made it for me when she learned I wanted to be a knight."

Merlin nodded. Of course. Lancelot wouldn't tell a stranger Gwen's name or the full details of his knightly adventures in Camelot. But he also wouldn't lie. It made Merlin both happy and sad to know Lancelot didn't know him.

"Have…," Merlin paused. What was he asking? Oh, right. "Have you heard anything about Camelot recently?"

Lancelot's stance calmed and Merlin vaguely noted that Lancelot had apparently thought Merlin was going to attack him. He wondered how many had tried stealing that mail. "Only good things. The prince nearly died a few months ago, but he's alright now…and the three hundredth year anniversary of Camelot's founding is coming up soon. There's going to be some huge festival there in three days to celebrate."

"A festival?"

"Yea," Lancelot nodded. "Every townsperson will attend the village festival while the nobility from all across the lands join King Uther and his son in a great ball inside the castle. I'm actually headed there myself to join in."

Merlin felt a fire in him spark to life. A huge festival in Camelot would mean he could get around easily without being noticed. He might even be able to sneak into the castle and see Arthur!

Arthur…

"Do you wish to join me?"

Merlin snapped back to reality and gazed into Lancelot's eyes. Memories of Merlin or not, Lancelot was still one of the kindest people Merlin had ever met. He gave his best smile and shook his head gently. "No thanks. I would, but I can't."

Lancelot frowned slightly. "Why not? If you want to go to Camelot, then go."

Merlin shrugged vaguely. "You probably wouldn't understand, even if I tried to explain it. Simply put, I'm kind of….scared….to go to Camelot." He shook his head. "I can't explain it very well….Anyway, you should go. Camelot's three days walk from here. You'll never make it to the festival if you don't hurry."

Lancelot looked torn between going to meet Gwen at the festival and staying to take care of the mysterious boy in the forest who probably looked like he really needed help. Merlin hadn't seen himself in awhile, so he could believe that maybe he looked a bit ragged.

"I'm fine," he assured the to-be knight. "Now go. You don't want to keep that lady waiting, right?"

Lancelot spluttered, a blush rising on his cheeks. It only took a bit more prodding to get him to go on his way and leave Merlin behind. Once he was out of sight, Merlin stood up and looked at his clothes – they were in shreds. No wonder Lancelot had thought he needed help!

Anyways…He needed to get moving if he was going to make it to Camelot in time for the festival without using magic. And he also had to do it so that he didn't run into Lancelot on the way. Merlin ran back to the cave and packed all of his stuff into one bag and hid it behind a small pile of rocks he'd gathered the first time he slept here. You can't steal what you can't find. Once he was sure his things were safe, Merlin took off going north as fast as he could towards Camelot.

...

...

Merlin didn't sleep, and ran most of the way, and made it to Camelot in barely over two days. He'd gone around a bit so he wouldn't run into Lancelot along the way, but he'd paid for it in the total exhaustion he felt once he arrived. He wanted to collapse, but Camelot was rising up in front of him over the hill and the flags filled him with a painful sort of joy. He'd been gone for three months and the sight of the castle standing tall felt like the first breath of air he'd had since he left.

"Oh…," he breathed and his legs gave out. Merlin fell to his knees but kept his eyes on the castle. The witch's words echoed in his mind: _"…you must be gone from Camelot, and Ealdor, and never return."_ "But I need…," he pleaded in a whisper before his sight darkened and his body succumbed to sleep. Before he could hit the ground, however, warmth wrapped around him and cushioned his fall.

When he came to, he realized he was lying in a bed. It was more comfortable than his old bed back in Gaius's house, but nothing compared to Arthur's royal chambers. It was hard to open his eyes, but when he managed it he saw the ceiling of the house he was in. It was the normal roof of any random house in Camelot. Sunlight was coming in through a tiny crack in the wall, letting Merlin know that it was the latest moments of morning, if not early afternoon.

The festival!

Merlin jumped up, suddenly wide awake, and quickly scanned the house he was in. There was a small kitchen, a table with two chairs, the door, two windows, wait a minute. This was Gwen's house.

Gwen's house?

Just before Merlin could panic, the front door opened and Gwen and Lancelot walked in together, laughing. They immediately stopped upon seeing that Merlin was awake and Gwen hurried over to kneel next to the bed by him.

"You're awake," she breathed out. "Well that's good. We were afraid you'd never wake up."

"How-?" Merlin began, but Lancelot, uncharacteristically, cut him off.

"I…followed you on the way here. I knew, somehow, that you were going to come here to Camelot, and something told me you would need help so…I tailed you. Granted, I lost you a few times when I stopped to eat or sleep, but I caught up in time to see you collapse just outside the city," he explained with a sheepish blush coating his cheeks.

"Oh," Merlin breathed out, not unlike Gwen had a moment ago. He looked down at the blanket covering him for a moment, then gave Lancelot a smile. "Thanks a lot. I haven't missed the festival, have I?"

"No," Gwen assured him with a twinkle in her eyes. "It starts tonight, in a few hours." She held out her right hand and gave him a gentle smile. "I'm Gwen, by the way."

Merlin stared at her hand for what felt like an eternity but was actually a matter of moments. An introduction. She didn't remember him either. It wasn't as if he expected her to, not when Lancelot hadn't, but it still hurt somewhere deep inside him when he grasped her hand in his own. "Merlin."

"I don't remember if I introduced myself to you in the forest," Lancelot said by way of amending things. He missed the twitch Merlin gave at the mention of remembering. "I'm Lancelot."

Merlin nodded, but he felt a twinge of fear inside. It was probably just some stupid statement, but Lancelot had said he couldn't remember the forest meeting very well. It was possible that in a few days, or hours even, he would completely forget meeting Merlin a few days ago. Gwen and he might-

"Oh, right," Gwen gasped, interrupting his thoughts. "I made you something." She stood and went over to a chest in the corner that Merlin hadn't noticed before now and pulled out a red over tunic and black pants and long-sleeved tunic. "I noticed your clothes were pretty worn and torn, so I made you some new ones….I hope you don't mind," she informed him with a nervous smile.

Gwen, the best seamstress in town and the woman with the kindest heart he'd ever known. He almost began to cry. She didn't even know him anymore and she was going to so much trouble for him…

"No," he managed, but had to take a deep breath before he could say anything else. "I don't mind."

Her returning smile was gift enough. "I just thought, if you're planning on going to the festival tonight, you can't do it in the rags you're wearing now….you know? Oh! Not that I'm saying there's anything wrong with your clothes now, I just think that you should wear something a bit more festive and in better condition than….not that your clothes right now can't be mended or anything. I'm sure I could-"

"It's fine…Gwen," Merlin stopped her gently with a little smile. "I know I don't look my best."

Gwen flushed in shame at having pretty much insulted someone and Lancelot smiled at her with so much love in his eyes in made Merlin's chest swell. It was like being home again, being with them.

...

...

That night, just as the sun was going down, when the festival was in full swing, Merlin snuck away from Gwen and Lancelot and used the back servant entrance to sneak into the castle. Every moment he feared that the witch from the Isle of the Blessed would intervene, so he hurried as fast as he could through the corridors towards the great hall. Towards Arthur.

He pushed open a door and suddenly the world was filled with sound and color as he walked into the great hall and found himself immersed in the festivities. Knights, lords and ladies, every noble in the kingdom, Uther, Morgana, a slew of servants, and….right in the middle of it all….Arthur. He was laughing with his knights the way he did the first time Merlin ever attended a party at the castle. He seemed so…happy.

Merlin's heart grew heavy. Merlin had worked for Arthur for almost two years and he had rarely seen Arthur hang out with his knights the way he was now. He'd rarely seen Arthur laughing the way he was now. Without a single inkling that Merlin had ever existed…Arthur was doing fine. He was happy. He had no idiot, useless manservant to yell at. He had everything he needed, or would ever need, right here.

'He doesn't need me…,' Merlin thought, feeling his eyes begin to burn.

Merlin closed his eyes, turned around, and ran. He ran and ran until his legs hurt and his breath was coming in gasps, until he was standing outside the castle and watching everyone else dance and sing to the birthday of their kingdom. When he'd stopped panting, Merlin figured he should go find Gwen and at least attempt to have a good time…or at least say thank you and leave very quickly to become a hermit for the rest of forever. He found Gwen and Lancelot standing just off the side of the area that had been roped off for dancing. Lancelot looked like he was trying to work up enough courage to ask Gwen for a dance.

"Hey," he greeted in as cheerful a voice as he could manage. They both turned to stare at him. "Listen…thanks for everything, but I think I'm gonna go now."

There was a moment of silence in which both of them seemed to realize he'd finished talking, and then Gwen shook her head a little. "Ok….," she frowned a little. "I'm sorry, have we met? My name's Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen." She gave him a friendly smile but Merlin felt his heart stop.

 _"You've been bad, young warlock. I warned you,"_ a sweet, sorrowful voice echoed through his mind.

Merlin took a step back from Gwen's hand and shook his head a few times before once again taking off and running as fast as he possibly could out of Camelot. He didn't stop running until he his legs collapsed underneath him somewhere far far away from the city, from Gwen, from Lancelot, from Arthur. There he lay until he fell asleep, his heart wrenching sobs breaking through the air around him for no one to hear but the trees.


	3. Dreaming

Arthur sat up abruptly in bed, sweat clinging feebly to his skin, feeling the last dredges of a cold fear leaving him. He ran his hands over his face and sighed almost forcefully. These nightmares….how long would he have them? Not even a sleeping draught from Gaius had helped him!

Ever since the night of Camelot's founding celebration, he'd had successive nightmares that had him waking up in cold sweats every night for two weeks. He couldn't think of anything that had happened to him that night to cause them, but over and over again they came. He never remembered what they were about before….but last night's was….

Athur shuddered. He felt absolutely terrified of the dreams he was having, even though last night's should have proven that he had nothing to be frightened of.

He'd seen a young man, about his own age, sleeping in the stables. He'd heard his own voice waking the other man up and Arthur had realized this man had fallen asleep in horse manure. _But wait,_ his conscience had murmured as he heard himself berating the other man, who looked more and more desolate with every word, _if he really had fallen asleep in the stables on his own, why would he sleep with his face in the manure?_ But he hadn't listened to his conscience and had continued with the verbal assault until the other man left and he was standing alone with a ratty looking man in the stables. He knew the ratty man's name: Cedric. He'd stolen Arthur's keys and then used magic to attack Camelot.

He'd seen himself and Morgana and that same mysterious man in a cave. They were looking for something, an afanc, because it was poisoning the water supply and if they didn't kill it then Gwen would be killed for acts of sorcery she didn't commit. Morgana and he had a little arguing banter, and the other man never tried to stick up for him, which for some reason kind of upset Arthur. Then they were fighting the afanc and nothing was working until he heard the mysterious man's voice yelling to use the torch. The afanc lit on fire, gloriously if Arthur were to admit it, and died. The plague was lifted and everyone was saved.

He'd seen himself in his room when that same man had come in and set a large snake head, positioned as if ready to attack, on his table next to his food and claimed Valiant, a knight in the tournament, was using magic to defeat his opponents and how he'd chopped off the head of one of the snakes to show to Arthur. At first Arthur had been disbelieving, simply because he couldn't imagine this man, scrawny and weak, could chop off a snake's head. Then that man had said "I know I'm just a servant….and my word doesn't count for anything….I wouldn't lie to you." And when Arthur had said "I want you to swear to me….what you're telling me is true," the other had responded, "I swear it's true," and stared at him with such truth and conviction that Arthur heard himself saying, "Then I believe you," without a hint of doubt. Arthur remembered Valiant. He'd killed Valiant in the tournament after he'd been attacked by those same snakes.

Arthur felt confused beyond all belief. The only thing moderately frightening about any of those dreams was the afanc, but Arthur had killed the afanc. The weird part was that….these weren't merely dreams. They were Arthur's memories, only they were altered. He'd killed the afanc and Morgana had gone with him, no matter how hard he tried to make her stay back, and he'd accused Valiant of using magic and then had defeated him in the tournament after he proved to the whole court that it was true. And Cedric had been his manservant for a short while and had stolen his keys and gone to the newly opened tomb below the castle and then he'd used magic to attack the city until the force of it all had killed him from the inside out. But the man from his dreams hadn't been at any of those events. He had not been there when Cedric was his manservant, he had not been there when Arthur killed the afanc and proved Gwen's innocence for Morgana, and he had not been there when Arthur tried to prove Valiant was using magic.

So who was he and why was he in Arthur's head?

Arthur roughed his hair up and then fell back onto his pillows. None of this made any sense, thus, it had to be some form of magic. Some sort of magic had to be placing that man in his dreams, in memories he had no part of.

"…until the day I die…"

Arthur jumped up and out of bed, grabbing the sword next to his headboard and looking around the room for the enemy. "Who said that?" he demanded calmly. "Where are you?"

There was no answer. Silence reigned in Arthur's room for about three minutes before the prince realized that the voice hadn't come from his bedroom, but from his head. It was that mysterious man from his dreams. Arthur almost started to fear what those words meant, but something inside him was screaming, pleading, that those words meant something far warmer than his mind would have him believe. Arthur struggled with himself, trying to find the rest of that sentence, but heard nothing more but the buzzing of his own brain.

"Uh," Arthur groaned out and put the sword back in its previous position. "This is going to drive me insane."

The rest of the day saw Arthur preoccupied. He barely managed to hold his own against his knights in training and his father was quite upset when Arthur was unable to even remember that a guest had been present after a hearing with a messenger from an outlying village had ended. Arthur was confined to his room for the rest of the day after that as punishment, but Arthur barely noticed. He couldn't stop seeing images from his dream the night before. They filtered in through every waking thought. Always, something would remind him of them and then all he could see was a scene he'd dreamt the night before.

He should've been upset that a dream was so all encompassing, but instead he was intrigued and wanted to know more. As the day progressed, he actually managed to elongate the dream memories.

If he sat at his desk he could see as the mystery man come into his chambers and breathlessly try to explain that Cedric had been taken over by an evil sorcerer's spirit and was going to destroy the city. He could see himself ordering the man removed from the castle and then watched as the man and Cedric started to fight.

In the throne room, he saw Gwen being charged with sorcery because her father had been cured of the magical illness that had taken over the entire town. The mystery man was in the corner. This led to him seeing a vision where he was in the council room with his father and the entire royal court as the mystery man barged in and claimed to be a sorcerer, the one who cured Gwen's father. Just as he was to be taken away to be killed, Arthur jumped in and saved him by coming up with lies about the man being in love with Gwen. It was strange to know that a you you didn't remember was telling lies, that you somehow knew were lies even in this strange world you were seeing, for a man you didn't know but felt you should so he wouldn't die. If that thought confused you, it definitely confused Arthur.

When he tried to elaborate on the Valiant moment, all he could do was repeat the words that man had said over and over again. "I know I'm just a servant….and my word doesn't count for anything….I wouldn't lie to you."

It wasn't until nearly nightfall that Arthur realized the difference between last night and the other nights he'd had these dreams. The only difference was that he'd taken one of Gaius' sleeping droughts before bed. He was about to send a guard down to get a sleeping draught from Gaius when said physician showed up in his room.

"Ah, Gaius," he greeted with a smile. "I was about to send for you."

Gaius gave a little bow. "That's all well, then, sire. Your father told me you seemed….distracted today," he said carefully. Arthur did not doubt that his father's definition had been a might bit more harsh. "So he asked me to give you a sleeping draught. It seems he thinks you were inattentive because you aren't sleeping well."

"Well, it is true I'm not sleeping very well lately," Arthur conceded, not believing his luck. "The draught last night helped a bit, but another one wouldn't be bad either."

Gaius gave him a curious look, no doubt surprised by the prince's willingness to take one of Gaius' awful tasting potions, but handed over the little black bottle nonetheless. Arthur thanked him and then dismissed him so he could go to sleep. Not a minute after the first drop of liquid had passed his lips, Arthur was in dreamland again.

…

...

Merlin lay on his side on the ground in the cave, three days from Camelot, and watched the fire before him. The sight of the flames flickering to and fro was hypnotizing and almost made him forget about his all-consuming loneliness. With an almost lazy flicker of gold in his eyes, the flames shaped themselves into knights jousting with one another and then exploded into the great Dragon as he flew high above Camelot and shot deadly fire from his mouth. Merlin blinked, hard, and the flames became a fiery girl retrieving water from a pump well and then into a form he knew was his mother, though it was simply sitting in a chair and staring into the distance. The flame flickered and Merlin saw the face of a man he'd known for only a few hours but who had meant the world to him: his father.

With a simple sigh, the flames died back down into a normal fire and Merlin shut his eyes. No matter what he did, all his magic showed him were scenes from his life that made him ache deep inside. It was a battle inside his chest: using magic made him feel whole and complete, but the images it showed him always reminded him of Camelot and Ealdor and all the adventures he'd been on with Arthur and that hurt him.

With another sigh, Merlin rolled over and faced away from the fire to sleep.

...

…

_"Hey, that's enough."_

_A peasant with brown pants and a red shirt, brown jacket, and blue neckerchief. A hand held out. A foot on a target full of daggers._

_"What?"_

_"You've had your fun, my friend."_

_"Do I know you?"_

_A hand held out. A cocky grin. His servant running around as daggers hit the target._

_"I'm -"_

Arthur twitched in his sleep.

_"So I don't know you."_

_A dark room covered in cob webs full of important people. A mace landing in a little basket of eggs._

_"I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass."_

_"Tell me…..Do you know how to walk on your knees?"_

Arthur groaned aloud and rolled his head to the side in bed.

_"Oh! Don't run away!"_

_"From you?"_

_A wide grin. A hand held out. Him and the other sizing each other up. A mismatched punch thrown and caught._

_"I could take you apart with one blow!"_

_"I could take you apart with less…"_

_A conveniently placed rope. A fall on some sacks of grain. Fumbling with the mace. A foot on a target full of daggers._

_"Heh. Sorry…How long have you been training to be a prat….my lord?"_

_A mock bow. A laughing smile. Running. A broom used as a weapon._

_"There's something about you…..I can't quite put my finger on it."_

Arthur's eyebrows pulled together.

_"Ev…..Everything she said to you…..Those were Morgause's words."_

_A sword dropping to the ground. A watery smile. His mother hugging him close and whispering anger in his ear. Shock and terror and hatred._

_"One day you'll be a great king."_

_A giant lizard-like monster. A desperate cry. A cave. His father at his bedside. Gwen mumbling at his bedside. A gentle, candle lit room._

_"But I know you. You're a prat."_

_Sorrowful tones. The fire. Grapes and wine. People in and out checking to make sure he's okay. Should've died. He's standing at the door and he won't move closer. Move closer. Move._

_"Promise me….if you ever get another servant…don't let it be a bootlicker."_

_"If this is you trying to leave your position-"_

_"No."_

_Alone. Gone. He's gone. He said goodbye._

Arthur gripped his sheets.

_There was a unicorn. He remembered this….he'd killed the unicorn and brought back its horn. All the grain died overnight. The water turned to sand. The restores rotted. That man…the mystery man. He'd told Arthur he had a final chance to save his people. Go to the Labyrinth of Gedref and face the final task._

_There was the ocean stretched out before him, and a table, and two chairs, and Anhora stood to the side while the mystery man sat in the chair across from him._

_"I'm sorry."_

_One of them had to die. One of the goblets was poisoned. One of them…._

Arthur jumped awake with a gasp. He took a moment to steady his racing heartbeat and ran his right hand through his hair with a deep sigh. He shut his eyes and took deep breaths.

"It didn't make sense," he murmured. "Broken conversations and missing names….and the unicorn…."

He'd killed the unicorn, then all the food and water was gone. But after Arthur let a man leave with a little extra food, the water came back…He'd met the man in the woods and gotten angry when his honor had been insulted. Anhora said he'd failed the tasks and all of Camelot would die. Then all the food reserves had rotted to nothing. He remembered receiving word that Anhora had another task for him, one that would absolve him of his crime and save the kingdom but….

Arthur ran the hand in his hair down his face and then let it fall back to the bed. "I don't remember."

Without that mystery man, the rest of the dream memory couldn't have happened. In fact….a lot of the scenes he was seeing…a lot of his living, day to day memories, were impossible with only the people in them. Two years back, he remembered the witch Mary Collins had tried to kill him. But he couldn't remember how he'd survived it. And it was all over his memory! Moments where something happened but the way it happened didn't make sense the way it all played out in his mind. If he thought about it-

"Prince Arthur."

Arthur jumped to a sitting position and reached for his sword the same moment he took in the appearance of the woman standing just past the foot of his bed. She had golden blonde hair down to the middle of her back and crystal clear forest green eyes that seemed to shine with an iridescent glow. She wore a simple green dress with almost see-through sleeves down to her elbows and a thin silver chain necklace.

She didn't smile when she spoke, but her voice sounded like something from a dream, something not entirely there. "Do not bother with your weapon, prince, for it will do you no good. I come with no harmful intent."

Arthur found himself believing her and let his hands fall to his lap in bed. He narrowed his eyes at her. "If you aren't here to kill me, witch, then what brings you?" Perhaps this was a magic user that would not lie.

The woman took a step forward and Arthur tensed, but all she did was place her left hand on his bed post and stare deep into his eyes. "You sleep to dream, young prince, to dream of a person you do not know. This man frightens you, yet you seek him in your dreams night after night. Your search encompasses all your senses and overruns your life." She gave him a sorrowful look. "If you continue this way, the search will kill you….So why do you continue to look for a man who exists only in your dreams?"

Arthur regarded her seriously, but did not speak. He wouldn't let it show on his face, but the truth was that her words had struck a chord in him. He had no idea why he kept trying to figure out who this mystery man was. He didn't know. He-

"Because something's missing," he found himself saying. "Something, no….someone is missing, and I need to bring him back. I have to find him."

If anything, the witch's smile became even sadder, but her eyes had begun to sparkle. "No matter how hard you may search….no matter what you try….I'm sorry, young, destined prince….but you will never find what you are looking for."

"And how would you know?" Arthur demanded quietly, not wanting to attract the guards.

"The very thought of him you speak of….of the destiny greater than time and magic itself…..that line was broken. That man…" She looked away, out Arthur's bedroom window. "That man does not live in this world."

"So he died?"

She turned back to Arthur with an almost neutral frown. "He does not live," she repeated cryptically.

Arthur blinked and the woman was gone. He quickly searched his room but she was nowhere to be found. Now certain that he was alone, Arthur let himself ponder her words. When someone died, you said they died. But the witch had just said 'He does not live.' At first, it would seem she meant that the man was dead….but the way she said it implied something much greater. But what was it?


	4. Realizing

"Gaius," Arthur called out along with a knock on the physician's door. A moment later, the door opened and Gaius ushered him in.

"What brings you here, my lord?" the elderly man asked.

Arthur looked around Gaius's chambers, his eyes lingering for a moment on the door across the room, before turning to face his old family friend. He clapped his hands together. "I'm about to ask you something, and you'll probably think I'm mad, but I need you think really hard and answer truthfully."

Gaius shrugged his shoulders. "Anything, sire."

Arthur nodded and took a deep breath. "Has anyone lived here with you in the past two years?" he said swiftly and yet still with a royal air to it.

Gaius stared at him for a long moment. The longer he stared, the more of a fool Arthur felt. Finally, "No…No I think it's just been me….Why do you ask?"

His eyebrow looked disapproving. Arthur looked away and around the room again. "Oh, no reason really. I just…I've had this inkling for awhile now that there's a castle staff member that I know, or _knew_ as it were, and I can't remember where from," he lied smoothly.

"Well," Gaius began, moving over to his work bench, where several jars of unidentifiable substances were sitting next to a mixing bowl, "I'm sorry I can't be of more use to you, but I don't know who you're talking about. Perhaps if you gave me a bit more description?"

Arthur paused for a moment, reaching into his mind for an image of the mystery man. It seemed that, during his waking hours, seeing a clear image of the guy was harder than when he was sleeping or had just woken up.

"Short, dark hair. Large ears. Blue eyes and a wide grin. Lanky, no real muscle mass at all. About…maybe an inch taller than me. Almost always wears these stupid things around his neck….neckerchiefs, yea," he listed, staring at something on the ceiling blankly while his mind focused on the way the mystery man moved and laughed.

"I warn you…I've been trained to kill since birth," Arthur warned him. He was acting more childish than normal, though no one seemed to notice. But how could he resist? No one ever challenged him, stood up to him, talked back to him, especially not a peasant!

"Oh really? And how long have you been training to be a prat?" the other male asked, his tone better suited for someone of noble blood than a commoner two steps from an execution.

Arthur almost snorted, but it thankfully came out as a line of laughter instead. He actually threw his whole body into the laugh, looking away for a moment before swiveling back to look at his adversary.

"You can't address me like that," he admonished, but the force of his words was lost to his amusement. He liked this guy!

"I'm sorry," the young man laughed softly. He bent into a mock bow. "How long have you been training to be a prat….my lord?" he teased, looking up at Arthur and trying to hold in his own laughter.

"Sire?"

Arthur blinked and found himself back in Gaius's chambers. That was new. He had no memory of that meeting, and he'd thought he was actually there until Gaius called him back. Speaking of the old man…Gaius was giving him an odd look, a black bottle in his right hand that he'd stopped working with to turn and face his prince.

"I'm sorry, Gaius, I wasn't listening. What were you saying?" he asked, back to his normal self.

Gaius gave him a long, meaningful look that Arthur couldn't decipher, but faced his potions again without another word about it. "What I said was, I know quite a few of the castle staff that have short, dark hair and blue eyes, but I don't know that any of them wear neckerchiefs or are taller than you."

Arthur almost visibly deflated. Oh poo. He hadn't seen it himself, but Arthur had gotten the strong impression that his mystery man had lived here with Gaius for some reason. He'd been so sure that, of anyone, Gaius would know who the man was. Off to the next person then.

"Thanks anyway, Gaius. I'll check somewhere else," he told the physician before ambling out the door in the most princely way he could manage. Gaius already thought he was ill, no need to make it worse.

As he walked, Arthur thought. The witch had told him that the man in his dreams did not live in this world. Arthur thought that maybe, if he could untangle the web of her words, he'd understand what that meant. He was also certain that she was the cause of his dreams….because how would she know about the mystery man he'd been dreaming about unless she had something to do with it? So, magic. Arthur had come to two possible conclusions. 1) The witch altered his memories and played them while he slept to screw with him and it was part of some evil plot to somehow destroy Camelot. 2) The witch had altered everyone's memories so that they did NOT include that man and it was part of some possibly evil plot that may or may not have anything to do with destroying Camelot. In this scenario, the altered memories were more likely an attack on the mystery guy and not on Camelot. An attack that required everyone forgetting about him.

But there had to be someone who remembered the guy! Who could he ask if not Gaius? Morgana, probably. She'd been in the cave with him and the mystery man when Arthur killed that monster. But if she didn't know, then who did? And why would a peasant be hanging out with him and Morgana?

Wait. Wait he knew this one. In the memories he'd had of this man…

_"I know I'm just a servant….and my word doesn't count for anything….I wouldn't lie to you."_

Ah! He was a servant! But wait…that didn't answer anything. Why would Arthur and Morgana be hanging around with a servant? Even if Morgana didn't, Arthur obviously did if he had so many memories of the guy.

_"I'm happy to be your servant….until the day I die."_

"My servant…..My servant!" Arthur exclaimed suddenly in the middle of the hall. Luckily, no one was around to hear him, but still.

 _'He was my_ servant! _My servant….And Cedric…Cedric framed him to take his position as my servant so he could steal the keys to the tomb and take the treasures inside. And he found out how Valiant was cheating in the tournament for me. And he found out about the monster in the water supply…an….an afanc…and then he helped me kill it. And he convinced the unicorn man, Anhora, to give me another chance when I screwed up the trials to save Camelot. He was…during that final task he was…willing to die for me,'_ he thought in a rush. Of course the guy was with Arthur all the time, he was his servant. But he was more than that. This man was infuriating and clumsy, but he was so loyal and likable that no one really cared. He was loyal…to Arthur.

"How did I forget him?" Arthur questioned himself aloud. Someone who braved danger for him on several occasions and somehow, magic or no magic, Arthur had managed to totally forget about him. Arthur felt a deep pain in his chest that he couldn't remember ever feeling before. Still, he knew what it meant. "I've got to find him."

...

…

Arthur knocked on Morgana's door. He really didn't want to go in Morgana's room, but he felt this desperate pull to find out more about the man in his dreams…so he would do anything.

Gwen opened the door, the good little servant she was. "Oh, my lord," she curtsied with a tiny blush. "Did you need something?"

"Yes," Arthur answered. "I need to speak with Morgana."

Come to think of it….Arthur kinda liked Guinevere. She was sweet and kind and reliable and strong-willed. In fact, Arthur had kissed her before his jousting tournament, and on that day he couldn't remember where he suddenly came back to himself and found out he was battling for Vivian's love. Ech.

But, staring at her now, his heart could not find the time to stop and think about her in any way other than how she could show him Morgana. It didn't falter or warm at the sight of her. His entire being was too desperate to find the man he felt he should know better than he knew himself.

"Right," Gwen nodded. She shut the door for a moment and Arthur waited. Hopefully Morgana would talk to him and wouldn't say 'no' just to start one of their stupid little sibling fights. Theirs was a tricky relationship that could either be helpful or acidic depending on how they both were feeling. The door opened again and Gwen motioned him inside. Score!

Arthur grinned and walked inside. Morgana was standing by the window in a long, dark blue dress. The light filtering in through the windows made her skin almost glow and her eyes seemed distant. Her hair fell in light curls to the middle of her back. Arthur's grin faltered for a moment. Dang, Morgana looked like the witch from his room, but darker.

"Yes?" Morgana asked, winding a bit of her hair around her right index finger. "You wanted to talk?"

Arthur shook his head a little to clear it and then gave a semi-gentle smile. "Yes, I do. I was wondering, Morgana….Do you know of a servant with short, dark brown hair and blue eyes, that always wears a neckerchief and is a slight bit taller than me?" He tried to sound like he was only half interested, but that all fell away at 'neckerchief' because Morgana's eyes got wider. "What? Do you?"

"Do you?" Morgana breathed out incredulously. Suddenly, she looked at Gwen behind Arthur. "Gwen, could you go get us something to snack on from the kitchens?" she asked gently.

Gwen paused only a moment before curtsying. "Of course, my lady."

As soon as Gwen was out of the room, Morgana's shoulders fell a bit and she began to talk in a relieved tone of voice. "I thought I was the only one who saw him," she admitted. "I thought I was losing my mind."

"No," Arthur assured her in a soft voice. "You're not crazy. Not unless we both are." He shrugged his shoulders. "How much do you know about him?"

Morgana looked to the floor. "Well…I see him sometimes….in my dreams. He flits in and out of my memories, in places where he didn't used to exist. And then sometimes I see him all alone in the woods and I don't know why because it doesn't feel like a memory and yet I see it as clear as I see you before me now."

Arthur took a moment to absorb all of that and then asked, "What memories?"

Morgana regarded Arthur silently for a moment. "The time when the water was poisoned and Gwen was blamed for it," she began quietly. "The day Bayard came to sign the peace treaty. The day the witch hunter came. And times where nothing special was happening but I saw him in the halls or in the courtyard."

"Stop! It's poisoned! Don't drink it!"

Arthur shut his eyes a moment and then opened them again. He was standing in the great hall with all of Mercia and Camelot holding swords to one another and the mystery man holding a goblet that he'd just taken from Arthur's hands.

"If you're telling the truth…," Uther began quietly, taking the goblet from Arthur's servant.

"I am," Bayard interrupted.

"…then you have nothing to fear," Uther finished, holding the goblet out toward the visiting king. Bayard sheathed his sword and motioned for Uther to give him the goblet, but Uther shook his head. "No. If this does prove to be poisoned, I want the pleasure of killing you myself." He turned to Arthur's servant. "You drink it."

"But if it is poisoned, he'll die," Arthur objected. He couldn't watch his servant die. He just couldn't risk it!

"Then we'll know he was telling the truth," his father said coldly, giving him a look that told Arthur to stay out of this.

"And what if he lives?" Bayard asked from behind Uther.

"Then you have my apologies, and you can do with him as you will," Uther said with a small hint of finality, glancing at Bayard before heading back to his seat.

"Uther, please, he's just a boy," Gaius attempted as well. "He doesn't know what he's saying."

"Then you should've schooled him better." Uther very nearly glared at Gaius, something he rarely did. This incident must have really riled him up!

Arthur felt desperate now. He couldn't let this happen! "…!" he chastised. "Apologize. This is a mistake. _I'll_ drink it!" He reached for the goblet, but the servant moved it away.

"No no no, no. It's alright." His eyes were locked on Bayard and Arthur could tell that he was livid at the thought of someone trying to kill Arthur. This knowledge shocked Arthur enough that he stopped trying to take the goblet away.

His servant raised the goblet to Bayard defiantly, then to Gaius remorsefully, and began to drink. He drained the goblet dry and everyone stood with baited breath to see what would happen next. After several seconds, his servant looked admonished.

"It's fine," he managed to get out in his embarrassment.

"He's all yours," Uther said to Bayard, and everyone began putting away their weapons and sitting down to enjoy the rest of their meal.

Arthur almost did as well, but then he heard a small sound and turned back to see his servant holding his neck with a pained expression on his face. Then the choked gasps began. Arthur's heart stopped in his chest and he stopped breathing.

No….

His manservant kept his eyes fixed on Arthur as he struggled to breathe. He looked like he was in terrible pain, but he kept his eyes locked with Arthur's until the last moment, when he finally lost consciousness and dropped to the floor.

No!

Arthur ignored everyone else as they drew swords and, in Morgana's case, a kitchen knife. Instead, he dropped down next to his servant's side and checked for signs of life. How fast was the poison? Was there any chance he could save him? How? Why did he have to be so stupid as to drink poison for such a stuck up prat of a prince? This wasn't worth it!

Gaius was next to him in a flash but it felt like a millennia. No one was moving fast enough! His most loyal servant would die long before they could make any attempt to save him. Arthur was moving too slow. He couldn't just let this boy die! He couldn't!

"…!" Gaius let out as he hit the ground by the boy's side. "Can you hear me?"

"Arthur?"

"Hm?" Arthur blinked and found himself back in Morgana's chambers. "Oh. Sorry. Were you saying something?" This was becoming a recurring theme it seemed….

Morgana narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "No….," she trailed. "But…you had this strange look on your face. It was almost panicked."

"Oh," Arthur mumbled. "It was nothing, don't worry about it. I'm fine," he said with a wave, as if that cleared the air and ended the conversation.

Morgana didn't release him from the suspicious look, and a full minute went by before she spoke. "Arthur….Where have you seen him?"

Arthur paused, taken aback. He shut his eyes to think and waited a moment before speaking. "The first time I met him, in town, and he stood up to me. The battle with Valiant. The day the water was poisoned and Gwen was blamed for it. The day Bayard came to sign the peace treaty. The days where I'd killed a unicorn and all the food and water vanished. When Cedric was here….and random moments, like you," he ended and opened his eyes.

Morgana's suspicious look was gone. Instead, she looked shocked. "Arthur…in all the times you've seen him….did you ever catch his name?" Arthur shook his head. "Me neither. I rarely hear words at all, but I know I've had conversations with him where I called him by name. But in my dreams, I never say it."

"I hear words," Arthur revealed. "Sometimes I forget I'm dreaming, everything is so clear. And there are times, like when I met him, where I know for a fact I said his name….but I can't hear it. I was hoping you could tell me, but I suppose not."

Morgana sighed. Silence reigned in the room for several long moments. It wouldn't be long before Gwen returned with the food Morgana had asked for. Arthur had vanished inside his head to think.

That day. The day Bayard came from Mercia to sign the peace treaty with Camelot…If he belayed the scene he'd just seen in his head, while he was awake….Then…Bayard had arrived with a large entourage and a large feast had been prepared. Morgana sat to Uther's left and Arthur to his right. Bayard gave a really long speech and Arthur nearly fell asleep. He had no idea how he'd stand it once he was king, all these speeches. Finally, the speeches were over and Bayard gave his father and him special goblets to represent the new alliance. And then….

And then…

Goodness, what came next if not his servant stopping him from drinking a poisoned goblet? In fact, Arthur didn't remember anything else of the next two days! How on Earth had he not realized something was wrong with his memory before?

More than likely, the witch had assumed that people don't readily think back on random moments in their life and would continue to move forward and that nothing should remind them of a time where Arthur's manservant was involved because they wouldn't see anything that would remind them of him. But now that Arthur knew he'd existed, he was replaying days long since passed and he was noticing the irregularities. They were atrociously obvious once you knew what you were looking for.

"I…"

Arthur looked up from the floor, where he'd been staring in his contemplation, to see Morgana. She looked mildly nervous, something Arthur wasn't akin to associating with his surrogate sister. "Hmm?" he encouraged.

She sighed and dropped the fabric of her skirt that she'd been fiddling with. "I get this terrible feeling," she tried to explain, her hands motioning to her chest, and thus her heart, "something foreboding when I see him….like I'm not supposed to see him. And yet, there's this…" she made a random motion with her hands as she tried to come up with the right word, "this…warmth?...and I understand everything and I know who he is and I know what I'm supposed to do…for this man I don't remember….but then I wake up and I've lost it all. I don't know anything and I can't help him." She looked entreatingly at Arthur. "Arthur, what sort of magic user would want to erase the memory of a person, their very life?"

"I don't know, Mor-" Arthur stopped. Their life?

_"He does not live."_

Arthur smirked. Now he understood.


	5. Searching

Arthur packed his bags. He was going on an extended hunting trip, he'd told his father. It wasn't a lie, but he wasn't hunting buck or fowl or fox. He was hunting for a young man who was meant to be here and wasn't. So he would set out at first light with five of his knights, hunting for a man, not a beast. His knights knew this, but they were loyal like his missing servant was and would never tell a soul the truth of the matter.

Just as he finished tying his bag shut, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," he said absently.

The door opened and Morgana slipped in quietly and shut the door behind her. The lock flipped into place quietly and Arthur turned to look at her curiously. She was frowning. "Arthur, I don't think you should go after him."

"What?" Arthur asked. "Morgana, you were just saying that you wanted to help him."

"I know," she said softly, sadly. "But I don't think you should go after him. There must be a reason why he's gone, Arthur. Perhaps…we should just let him stay-"

"No!" Arthur and Morgana's eyes both widened at Arthur's outburst. That had been an almost violent rebuttal…why had he done that? Arthur's expression calmed as he came to understand. "I can't let him go, Morgana. I just can't. There's something…something is telling me that he's important. I'd go up against my father to get him back."

Arthur's vision swam and he held onto the post at the end of his bed to keep his balance. He was on the ground and a woman with long blonde hair told him to come with her and she would tell him of his mother. He…he remembered this…He'd gone to a secret castle far from Camelot and proven himself a worthy man. Morgause had shown him his mother, who had told him he was born of magic and that his father had known his mother would die if he let his son be born and that he'd let her die…it was all his fault. He'd gotten so angry that he'd gone straight to his father and challenged him to a duel. He'd beaten his father, had him pinned in his chair, an inch from death. And then…then he'd stopped. He'd stopped because….because…

His servant had helped him sneak out of the castle. He'd ridden out with Arthur to meet Morgause, no matter what may happen. They'd talked about why his servant would help him: they'd talked about how he understood Arthur's feelings. Arthur had learned that his servant never knew his father. They were both raised by one parent; Arthur by his father Uther, and his servant by his mother Hunith….why could he remember Hunith, but not his servant's name?

They'd reached the castle. The whole time, his servant had stood back in the corner and let Arthur learn what Morgause would tell him. Then…then when they got back to Camelot and Arthur had been about to kill his father…His servant…

The doors burst open, revealing Sir Leon and Arthur's mysterious manservant. _"Arthur!"_ his servant yelled, rushing down the table to stand just opposite Arthur and Uther. "Don't! I know you don't want to do this."

"My mother…is _dead_ because of him!" Arthur yelled. The only reason he didn't run the man through _right here and now_ was because his servant was in the room. That man did not need to see the bloodshed…

"Killing your father won't bring her back…You've lost one parent…do you really want to lose another?" his servant asked, trying to dissuade the killing. He sounded almost desperate, but also simply sad.

"Listen to him Arthur," Uther said. Arthur felt the anger spark in him and he readjusted his grip on his sword, ready to push down and end this pathetic man's life right here and now, but then his servant's voice came again and he paused.

"Arthur please…Put the sword down," he breathed out, sounding as if he'd run all the way here. He probably had.

"You heard…what my mother said," Arthur argued back. "After everything he has done…you believe he deserves to live?" He shook his head a tiny bit. "He executes those who use magic, and yet he has _used it himself_!" Arthur turned his yelling on his father. "You…have caused so much suffering…and pain…I will put an end to that."

"Morgause is lying."

Arthur stopped everything: talking, fighting, breathing. What?

"She's an enchantress…," his servant continued after a long pause. His voice was shaking. "She tricked you. That was not your mother you saw. That was an illusion," he said in quick succession, the shaking gone.

Arthur hated that he was beginning to believe what was said. He didn't want to think that that hadn't been his mother. He didn't want that to have been a lie. He wanted that to be her! But even as he tried to stay mad, he felt the anger beginning to seep away from him. It was like the boy's words were the cure for his anger.

There was another pause and when he spoke again, Arthur was certain his manservant was trying not to cry, even though he was looking and even though his servant had no reason to cry.

"Everthi…..Everything your mother said to you…..," he breathed out. And here he paused and swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. "Those were Morgause's words," he said a bit stronger.

"You don't know that!" Arthur yelled. He had to believe it was true! He had to! If that hadn't been his mother…If Morgause was lying….! Then all sorcerers were liars and cheaters and betrayers! Then all magic was evil! And that couldn't be true! That couldn't be true because-

"This has been her plan all along….," his servant continued, stronger than ever, his voice louder, "to turn you against your father, and if you kill him…the kingdom will be destroyed. This is what she wants!"

Arthur paused, trying to breathe. His sword fell a bit as he looked away from his father, absorbed what his most loyal friend had told him. Morgause was lying…she was trying to destroy the kingdom…she…she used magic and she was evil. Magic was evil…

"Listen to him, he's speaking the truth," his father murmured from under the sword tip. He looked more like an old man than Arthur had ever seen. Weak. Vulnerable….Innocent.

Arthur grit his teeth. He had to make sure! "Swear to me…it isn't true! You were not responsible for my mother's death. GIVE ME YOUR WORD!" Arthur knew he was shaking, but he felt like he was coming apart at the seams so he didn't care. 'Please! Tell me you killed her! Please, let me believe it wasn't all a lie!' he yelled in his head the opposite of what he yelled aloud. 'Don't let it be true that her magic was evil…'

"I swear on my life. I loved your mother. There isn't a day that passes that I don't wish she was still alive. I could never have done anything to hurt her," Uther assured him, sounding a second from tears.

That did it. Arthur crumpled to the floor by the King's chair, his sword a useless piece of metal on the floor. So it was true…Morgause was a lying, cheating, deceiving, evil enchantress, a user of magic and someone no one could trust. Magic was evil. All magic was evil. Everything he'd come to hope for was vanishing before his eyes.

A hand on his shoulder woke Arthur from his memories and he saw Morgana's worried eyes float back into view. The world righted itself and suddenly Arthur was back in his bedroom, holding the bedpost. His breathing was ragged.

"Arthur?" Morgana whispered in concern.

Arthur nodded and swallowed. "I'm fine," he assured her, but he voice sounded weak. "It's nothing."

"It was something, Arthur. You stopped responding to me for five whole minutes. You looked angry, and all the color drained from your face. Then you looked like you were going to cry," she informed him, her voice a bit harder than before. She wanted a straight answer. She was worried.

Arthur kept silent for a long while, debating whether or not to tell her. Eventually, he sighed and had to look away from her pleading eyes. "It was a memory, ok? I had a memory about Morgause, the witch who beat me in a duel."

"Ah yes, the one you ran off to find. I remember her," Morgana teased sarcastically. "Was it a memory of this mystery man as well?" she asked seriously. Arthur nodded. "See? This is another reason why I think you should stay away from him, Arthur! This happened in my room the other day, too. The more you try to find this man, the more this will happen. What if something triggers a memory in the middle of a battle, or while you're standing on the battlements, or in some other potentially dangerous situation? You could die, Arthur."

"Morgana!" Arthur said loudly, but not quite at a yell. "I simply cannot let him go. You…," he trailed off. How could he say this without sounding too girly? Oh screw it. "You wouldn't understand, Morgana. He's…I don't _feel_ right without him here. That's why I've been firing my servants, because they aren't him. I've known for _months_ now that something was wrong, I just didn't know what it was. But now I do, Morgana. I lost someone important, someone vital. I lost _him._ He's….," _'Here goes nothing,'_ Arthur thought, "the other half of my coin."

There was a pause in which Arthur was certain Morgana was about to start laughing at him. Then she said, "Well then, I suppose you'd best get some sleep then. You have an early start." She sounded…not quite smug, but like she'd gotten what she came for.

"What? But you-"

"I wanted to know why you were going after this man that we hardly remember. I wanted to know why you remember him at all. I think, and this is just a guess, but I think that he was your most important person, Arthur," she said gently, softly. She was a well brought up young lady in every way in that moment, even down to the small smile on her face. "I think he meant the world to you…and maybe you knew that before, and maybe you didn't….I don't know. But I'm certain that you can fix everything and bring him back to us, because he was vital to us all. He was….absolutely the _best_ manservant you ever had," she said with a grin.

Arthur stared at her. He got the feeling he'd said that a lot, except….not exactly….He'd said the other male was the worst manservant he'd ever had. A smile spread on his face.

"Yes. I believe he may just have been," he agreed.

...

...

The knights were saddled and Arthur was at the forefront. They were all calmly walking their horses from the castle and through the city, out into the great beyond to find someone they had no clue how to find. On the way out, Arthur caught sight of Morgana in her chamber window, but even though she gave him a small wave, he stayed silent and still on his horse. Once he and his knights were safely hidden in the woods, Arthur turned his horse around to face them.

"Alright then," he began. "Have any of you heard anything about a mysterious person lately in any area of Camelot?"

His knights looked between themselves and then shook their heads with low murmurs of 'no, sir.' Arthur almost sighed. He'd figured as much. He'd simply have to follow his….guh… _heart_ …and hope it led him to his missing half. Arthur turned his horse around again and began walking steadfastly through the trees, looking every which way for signs of the boy with the neckerchiefs.

He had this feeling that all he needed was to call out to his manservant…and somehow, someway….the other male would come. But Arthur had no name to call.

...

...

Merlin walked through the forest with his eyes closed, placing his hand on every tree he passed. They'd begun to speak to him about a week ago. They whispered to him. Merlin wasn't sure if they knew he could hear them, but they said things like 'It'll be alright' and 'You're safe here' and even 'You're weird.' It was nice to hear voices at all, even if they did come from trees.

He'd spent the majority of his time in these woods studying his magic book and hoping that maybe, when the time came for him to protect Arthur, he'd be able to do it. Except…the last time he'd gone to Camelot, Gwen and Lancelot had forgotten him. Then the witch who managed all of these memories had spoken to him and told him that she'd warned him not to go back to Camelot. What would happen if he went back again?

Merlin hoped that if he got good enough at his magic, that he wouldn't have to actually enter the city to help Arthur, so he studied his little heart out. It was the only comfort he was getting, so he was using it. He'd learned how to levitate a good four feet off the ground, how to create delicious meats from nowhere, how to manipulate water and use it as a weapon or anything else he needed it for, how to make leaves as sharp as swords, and how to hear the trees talk. Sometimes he caught a word or two from a squirrel or an owl, but he wasn't sure how because the spell he'd cast said nothing about animals, only trees and plants. He needed more practice.

He'd also become quite the good wood carver. His little den had a pile of little wooden statues made from little bits of wood. There was an intricate fish, a crown, a sword, an eagle, a dog, a cat, a bastet, a set of four dragons, and a set of four birds. He was working on the figure of a man at the moment.

Merlin had used spells he already knew on things here in the forest, trying to master them so he could use them from a distance. He'd brought his little dragon figurines to life like he had that dog statue and the snakes in Valiant's shield. He slowed down time and watched the wings of a fly move. He manipulated fire and wind almost every night. He manipulated bugs, lit fires, created tornados of various sizes, and, on one occasion, he'd managed to make it rain. He could break large branches and rocks with barely a thought, bring things towards him and push them away, and make thick fogs that could last for hours. They weren't perfect, but the elemental magic was pretty powerful now and he didn't need to say a single spell to use any of them anymore. That was pretty impressive for a little less than four months time.

But, as much joy as learning to do magic just by willing it so was, Merlin often found himself falling into a dark pit. He kept remembering how happy Arthur had looked at the celebratory feast almost three weeks ago. He kept seeing the lack of recognition in Gwen and Lancelot's eyes. He kept remembering times where he and Arthur had worked together to defeat some great beast. He kept remembering times where he'd failed as a servant and how Arthur had gotten angry at him for it but how he never sacked Merlin for it. All the good things in his life seemed so far away, so long ago.

Merlin stopped walking and leaned his head against the bark of a tree next to where his hand lay. He took a deep breath that shuddered through his body and simply listened to the sounds of the forest. 'Oh, he's so sad…' the tree he was leaning against murmured. The language wasn't quite English, but he could still understand it. The wind blew through the trees, knocking leaves from their branches and creating piles on the ground. A chill was in the air. Fall was here and it would only be maybe two months until this place was covered in a thick blanket of snow.

A bird called out from a distance and another answered from a nearby tree. Two squirrels raced through the highest branches. A rabbit snuffled along, unconcerned about Merlin's presence, only twenty feet away. Even the forest seemed to move on without Merlin. A tear slid down Merlin's cheek slowly, until it reached his chin and dripped off, to land almost silently on a brown leaf below on the forest floor.

'It's alright,' the tree he leaned against murmured in his head. 'No need to cry.'

Suddenly, the whole forest around Merlin went still. Then, just as suddenly, all the trees were in a flurry, babbling at once. Merlin knew what that meant: people were coming. They acted that way when he came around too, so Merlin thought that maybe even the trees kept forgetting who he was. The rabbit jumped and fled into its hole and Merlin pushed away from his tree. He turned the way the trees were saying the people were coming from and began walking that way. Now was as good a time as any to ask about Arthur's well-being.

He walked about a hundred feet and came around a tree and stopped. In front of him, walking this way on horseback was Arthur with five of his knights. They were looking every which way and had weapons hanging from their saddles. A hunting party. Arthur was looking to his left when Merlin saw him, but as Merlin watched, he became aware of Merlin's presence and turned to face forward.

Their eyes met.

Merlin's eyes turned gold, time slowed down, and he fled. He couldn't handle Arthur introducing himself the way Gwen had. He just couldn't.

...

...

Arthur pulled his horse to a stop, which in turn stopped all his knights in their tracks. That had been…But there was no one there now. Had he imagined the man from his memories standing there, not fifty feet away? No. No he had no memories like that; no memories where his servant's clothes looked ragged, his skin was marred with bits of dirt, and his hair went just passed his ears. This man looked haggard, worn down.

He had just seen his missing servant. That meant that he must live around here somewhere, or at least be in the area at the moment. But how had he vanished so quickly?

The flash of gold. The reason why Arthur hadn't wanted what Morgause said to be a lie. It was what Arthur had been suspecting his manservant of for months; his loyal, happy, sometimes wise sometimes stupid, goofy, clumsy, hardworking servant.

_"I'm a sorcerer, Arthur. I was born with magic and I think it was given to me so I could serve you, protect you, help you."_

"Magic," Arthur breathed out so quietly that none of his knights heard. Then Arthur's senses came back and he could hear his knights questioning the sudden stop. "Sorry," he said louder, shaking his head. "I think we're in the right area now." He didn't tell them why, but he did say they were stopping for the night and that tomorrow they would split up and search this area thoroughly.

He was so close. His heart wouldn't stop pounding in his chest. It took forever to fall asleep that night, and when he did, he dreamt of nothing but his manservant and friend.


	6. Remembering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!

A bird chirped in the early morning light, a bleak gray before the heat could manage to rid the earth of fog, and Arthur's eyes snapped open. He ran his right hand down his face and took a few deep, steadying breaths. Dreams. Memories.

He was in Ealdor with his manservant, and they were fighting to save his manservant's home from bandits because King Cenred would not. His manservant's best friend died, and had claimed to be a sorcerer. Arthur believed him because, even then, his manservant had meant so much to him that he simply could not let any hint of magic become associated with the younger male. To do so would have meant death to his friend.

Lancelot had defeated a Griffin, a beast that supposedly only magic could kill. Then he'd claimed he still needed to prove himself to himself. Just before he left, Lancelot had confessed to Arthur that Arthur's servant had been there when he killed the Griffin. His manservant would not let Lancelot go without him. When they'd arrived on the scene, his servant had immediately rushed to Arthur's side, ignoring all danger to make sure Arthur was alive.

His manservant had been accused of stealing Queen Catrina's royal seal. Arthur had been ordered to arrest him. Arthur had sent his knights every which way to search in every corner of the castle except his room, because he knew his servant would be there at that very moment. When he'd gone back to his room and his servant had been there, dutifully cleaning the room, Arthur had been so relieved. Thank God his servant was on time! Or…well, not on time, but on the same time schedule he always was on. When he'd said Queen Catrina had accused him of stealing her seal, his servant had claimed yet again that she was troll. Arthur had wanted to believe him, to discuss the matter, but they had no time. He didn't care if his servant had actually stolen the seal, if his step-mother was a troll, if the whole kingdom was about to crumble down around his feet. At that moment, all he cared about was getting his servant safely out of Camelot. Maybe one day they could meet again, but not that day, not while the Queen was still Queen. And when his servant had vanished through the ante-chamber door, Arthur'd felt his heart cracking and squeezing all at once in his chest.

Arthur watched the sky for several long moments. A bird flew over head and called out once into the distance, a soft, beautiful cry. One of his knights shifted and Arthur decided they had all best be moving, before his wayward manservant disappeared from the forest altogether. So he got up, packed his things, and began loudly ordering his men around. They ate a meager breakfast, as they typically did when on the move, and then Arthur began telling each man which way to go and search around in.

"First off, I'll go…," Arthur trailed off. A good two hundred yards behind his knights stood the witch he'd seen in his bedroom. He would recognize her anywhere, no matter how far away she was. "…That way," he said at length. "I'll go that way." Before they could all turn around and see the witch for themselves, Arthur quickly divvied up the rest of the forest around them into six moderately equal parts. "Now, we'll meet back here at sundown. Understood?" They all nodded. "And you all remember what he looks like, right?" They nodded, though some of them looked a bit nervous. It was good enough. Something told Arthur he'd be the one to find his servant anyway. "Right then. Let's get moving."

When he looked in the direction he'd be walking, the direction he'd seen the witch in, she was gone. Still, seeing her at all had to mean something, so Arthur began marching. He walked for what seemed like forever and finally moved past a row of trees into a small glade. For a moment he wondered if the glade was natural, or if magic had made it, for the whole area seemed surreal as if it were not of this forest. Then he saw her.

She was standing by a stone pillar at the edge of the trees opposite him. Similar stone pillars lined the glade and a stone altar was sat in the center. The witch wore a light blue cloak over her simple green dress now, no doubt due to the colder temperature. Actually, Arthur was certain that it hadn't been this cold before he entered the glade. He had the distinct impression that he had taken a step and traveled significantly further south than he had been that morning.

Instead of asking the witch how she'd created this place, Arthur asked, "Why did you alter our memories? Why my servant?"

The witch's gaze slid over the altar in the center of the glade and then looked back up at Arthur. "You already know the answer to that, young Prince. You remembered it yesterday."

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

...

\- (a break because it's a long one) –

...

He was sitting in his room, drinking some vile potion Gaius had cooked up for him that was supposed to 'give him his strength back.' It tasted putrid. He downed the whole vial at once and set it on the food tray a maid had laid on his lap only minutes before. Arthur grimaced and tore a large shred of bread off the loaf on the tray and stuffed it in his mouth. He swallowed and frowned at his food.

His servant hadn't been in to see him yet and he'd been awake for almost three hours already. Usually, his manservant was with him all the time, silently fretting over every nick and cut. The last time he'd been badly hurt, the time with the Questing Beast, his servant had been so morose and run down Arthur had thought he'd been saying goodbye to him. So why had he not had a visit from the younger man yet? It was really bugging him.

Just then, his bedroom door opened and in walked the very man he'd been just thinking about. Arthur looked him over real quick. "Ah," Arthur let out. "And where have you been? You look terrible." No, seriously. His manservant looked like someone who'd traveled a long distance, possibly a week's travel, without sleeping or eating or stopping. He looked like he needed a nice warm bath and a long nap.

His friend shrugged. "Worrying, mostly," he said truthfully. "Trying to find a cure for an incurable disease," he admitted offhandedly. He sounded almost normal, but there was a slightly weary tone to his voice. Arthur figured he must have been worrying a lot more than he would ever admit. That kind of made Arthur feel warm inside.

Arthur snorted to cover up his feelings. "Well, there was no need. I'm fine." But as soon as he said it, the smile left his face and he gave his servant a curious look. The last time he'd been this ill, his friend had come in and talked to Arthur like they would never see each other again. The last time, Arthur had been confused and actually kinda scared. Would it all happen again? He shook his head. He was being foolish. "You've been slacking on your duties while I've been ill," he accused lightly, looking back to his food. If he looked at his servant too long, he might give away that he was feeling uneasy.

"Sorry," the other male apologized. "Before I get to that, can I say something?"

"Go ahead, ….. You will even if I tell you not to," Arthur acquiesced. He was hard put to admit it, but Arthur liked that his servant hardly ever listened to him. It made him feel more like a man and less like a prince.

"At times like these…when you get hurt…I can't help but feel the way I did when you were hurt by the Questing Beast." Arthur looked up at the man standing by the door. They had both been thinking of the same moment in time! "I meant every word I said…You know…I…," he trailed off. "I really don't know what I would do if you died."

He wouldn't….Arthur lowered his eyes and looked off to his right. When he spoke, it was barely above a murmur. "You'd move on," he said. It might be sad, but everyone would move on. Even his most loyal companion would soon rise above any sorrow and move on without him, as if he'd never existed. He felt suddenly all alone, thinking like that.

"No, I really don't think I would," the servant said at the same level. Arthur's eyes snapped back to his. "That's why….Arthur, before I go, I need to tell you something really important, and you can't call the guards. It wouldn't do any good by tomorrow morning."

"…, what are you on about?" Arthur asked. If he acted like he thought his servant was being stupid, then he wouldn't seem worried at all, right? Arthur hoped this wasn't turning into something like with the Questing Beast. He hadn't been able to sleep that whole time. He'd been so worried he would never see this man before him ever again. Now he was talking about telling Arthur something that might require guards.

Something that…..Oh!

"Alright…," the servant murmured almost silently before his eyes flashed gold, staring straight at Arthur so he would have no problem seeing it.

The fire sparked into being, the dishes left from the last breakfast Arthur had eaten before the attack cleaned themselves, the curtains closed for the night, the plate with Arthur's food lifted so the covers could be smoothed and tucked in then it sat back down, and Arthur suddenly felt as clean as if he'd just had the best bath in his life.

 _Oh god. No. You did not just show me that. Why would you show me that? It's against the law! You weren't supposed to show me that! I mean, yes, I've thought it was true for the longest time, but you were never supposed to confirm my suspicions! If I know, you have to die! You have to-,_ Arthur's inner rambling panic attack was cut off by his servant's voice.

"I'm a sorcerer, Arthur. I was born with magic and I think it was given to me so I could serve you, protect you, help you. I know you think I'm an idiot, but I'm trying real hard to use magic to help without getting caught and it's harder than it seems," he explained in a quiet rush.

Arthur watched him with steady eyes, but his heart was leaping out of his chest. He knew that. Yes, he knew that. His servant friend was always helping him. They were friends so close that Arthur couldn't imagine a life without the other man. Arthur knew the man before him would never hurt him or Camelot on purpose. He would never because he was….

His manservant continued on, unaware of Arthur's inner acceptance. "I've got a lot of power, but I can't use it all yet….so when you got hurt and nothing I did would heal you…" Arthur started listening intently to what was being said. "I went to a place called the Isle of the Blessed, a place filled with the magic of the Old Religion, and made a deal with a sorceress there to save you. And it worked. You're alright now."

The Isle of the Blessed. A place filled with the magic of the Old Religion. This peasant, this servant, this sorcerer, had gone to a magic filled place and made a deal with some sorceress to save Arthur's life. He was so desperate to save Arthur that he made a deal with a sorceress. A lying, deceitful-No. No, Arthur had to stop thinking like that. Not all magic was evil. His servant was proof of that. If all magic was evil, then his servant would never have made a deal to save his life.

Waitaminute.

"You made a deal with a powerful sorceress," Arthur began. "My wound was healed by magic." The younger man nodded shortly. "…," Arthur said, "What did you give up?"

"I-" Arthur could sense the cover up coming before it began, and stopped it.

"You said you made a deal, which means _something_ was given up for me to get healed. I want to know what it was and you'll tell me immediately or I'll have you thrown in jail for a month," he threatened darkly. _Don't prove me wrong about you. Don't tell me you gave up someone else in my place. That's wrong. Don't tell me that._

The man before him said nothing, just closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. Arthur growled low in his throat, a warning of his impatience. He wanted to know now! The tension was making him testy and Arthur needed to know what had been given in place of his life!

"I…" Tears slipped down his servant's cheeks in two small, slow running rivers. "Just tell me, what do you think of me? Now that you know, what do you think of me?" Even though he was crying, the man's voice was relatively calm. Quiet, but steady.

Arthur bristled. "Does that really matter, …? I want to know what the deal was. Tell me or-"

"I don't have a month, Arthur! I need to know what you think!" his servant suddenly yelled. Arthur paused, worried that the volume had called a guard. After a few moments with no armored guard bursting into the room, Arthur allowed himself to speak again.

Arthur's voice came out quiet. "I told you. It doesn't matter. You've drunk poison for me, …, and faced my father for me, and followed me no matter where I go so you could save Camelot with me. You've fought monsters, sorcerers, trolls, and dragons with me. You told me you would be my servant until the day you died. I think that's enough to absolve you of the crime of sorcery, don't you?" He gave a little smirk, something akin to his usual blinding grins or teasing smiles. There was an uneasy feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach, a nauseous sort of fear that warned him something was terribly wrong.

The other man managed to open his eyes and smile at Arthur for a brief moment and then he couldn't keep his eyes open for all the water in them as he cried a tiny bit harder. That couldn't be good.

Arthur frowned "…?" he asked. Why was he crying? Arthur wasn't going to tell his father about the sorcery. They would both make it through this, together. "Oh god." He let out, suddenly aware of the truth. His servant was the kindest man he'd ever known. In a situation where he couldn't save someone himself, he had gone to a sorceress and traded something for Arthur's life. When he'd met his mother, or Morgause's version of his mother, she had said a life could only be made by taking the life of another. His servant would never give someone's life for Arthur's, unless… "You didn't bargain your life, did you, …? Tell me you weren't that stup-"

"I gave _everything_ but, Arthur."

And then he fled the room faster than Arthur could blink. Arthur was left sitting on his bed, unable to breathe and unable to give chase. The world seemed to have fallen down and where his gut should be was a huge black hole and it felt like there was a stake through his chest right where his heart should be.

Again. Again. God, why did this keep happening?

Arthur looked down at his food, but he'd lost his appetite. His servant….loyal, true, strong, bumbling, wise, kind, back-talking, magic-using, best servant he ever had….had once again made the ultimate sacrifice for Arthur: with the poisoned goblet and Bayard, the unicorn fiasco, and even the Questing Beast no doubt. And he was always at Arthur's side when it counted, but now….now Arthur was being faced with the possibility that tomorrow there would be no loyal idiot at his side. Instead, he might wake to the news that his friend had died in his sleep, or walking down the hallway.

And the worst part was Arthur knew there was nothing he could do. His manservant had made a magical deal, and there was nothing physically possible Arthur could do to stop it.

...

\- (a break because it's a long one) -

...

Arthur shook his head and he was back in the glade with the witch. He glared at her. "Take it back," he ordered. "Even if it kills me, do it. He deserves to live more than I do."

Her expression turned sad. "When that boy came to me to save your life because he couldn't do it himself, I offered him your life for every memory that could ever exist of him. I knew what his destiny was, and I claimed all the power it held. Everyone forgot and I gathered all the energy of their thoughts and feelings and kept it." She stared right into Arthur's eyes, into his soul. "Seers still know him as a mysterious figure in their dreams and visions. His destiny was so great that it still echoes in the magic that runs throughout the world. You, Arthur Pendragon, are different. You remember because of an entirely different reason."

"What are you talking about? Just take it all back!" Arthur demanded.

She shook her head. "I cannot. He created the magic that took your memories, so he created the key to unlock them. I do not have the key." Arthur opened his mouth to ask a question, but she continued on before he could. "He couldn't save you with the powers he possessed at the time, he wasn't strong enough. So he came to me, a priestess of the Old Religion, to make a deal. The moment he decided to take the deal, his latent magic reached out to me and caused the deal to become a reality. Every memory anyone has or will ever have of him was collected and given to me to hold. He is not aware he did this and I have not told him. It would be best that he never know." She stared at the altar again, her expression still sorrowful. "That boy would have cut his own heart out and given it to me if I had asked that to save you. I would never wish any pain or harm on him, but that is also his destiny. The hardships make him who he was meant to be."

"If you don't want him to hurt, then tell him about the magic. Have him release the spell so he can come back to Camelot!" Arthur didn't understand what was so wrong with that idea.

The witch gave him a pointed look. "If I told him he caused this, he would spend his every waking moment trying to break it and return things to the way they were before you were injured. It would encompass his entire life and he would never find the answer because the key does not lie within him. He gave it away and the search for it would bring about his death in a very painful and gruesome way," she said almost angrily. Arthur flinched back. The witch's expression changed to something akin to curiosity. "No, Lord Pendragon, the only one who needs to exist to change things….is you."

"Me?"

She nodded. "Yes. The night of Camelot's three hundred year commemorative ball, you saw your servant within the crowds of people. He had snuck in to check on you and you saw him. Though you were not aware of it, your heart realized who he was and you began to remember him. Your servant gave you the key to releasing this spell but you would never have been able to use it if you were normal. If he had given it to the seer, or the knight, or the maid then nothing that is would have been. You, however, could not let him go like they did. Your mind had forgotten but your heart felt that something was missing and all it needed was the tiniest push to put the pieces together. I must thank you for being different, because every time you try to remember him, more power is given to me through those memories."

Now, typically, that sort of statement would have worried Arthur, but there was something about this witch that told Arthur there was no danger in her gaining more power. And besides, he was more interested in getting his servant back at the moment.

"What is the key?" he asked, and a tiny nagging began at the back of his mind.

"I cannot tell you that. Knowing the key is the source of its power. A sorcerer's word is a sorcerer's word. We cannot break the promises we make to one another. I cannot help you," she informed him solemnly.

Arthur didn't understand this woman. She was the reason everyone had forgotten his servant. She posed the deal and his servant accepted it, so it was all her fault. Yet she acted like she cared deeply for the other man and wanted nothing more than to help him. She was a contradiction.

"Arthur," she said gently, and Arthur's tense stance lessened. He calmed to the sound of her voice. "You have always known what was necessary to bring him back to you. You knew the day you spoke to Morgana, and you knew yesterday when you saw him, and you know today. All you need to do is…," she trailed off.

Arthur's mouth moved before his brain had thought of a single thing. "Call his name," he said. "All I need to do is call out to him….and he'll come back." He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, the glade was gone and he was standing in an unassuming part of the forest just like every other part. The witch had vanished as well, but thanks to her Arthur knew what he had to do. "Thank you."

He hurried onward through the forest, all the while trying to remember his servant's name. When he found the other man, and he knew he would, he would need a name.

...

...

Merlin was sleeping when the trees began to murmur of a new presence in the area. By the time he woke up, they'd already calmed down to a gentle murmur. If he had heard them, he probably would have run away and Arthur would never have found him. As it was, Merlin was sitting in his little cave, slowly packing his bags, when Arthur found him.

He knew he had to leave, but he didn't want to. He would have to leave Camelot altogether once he left here. If he left now….he might never see Arthur again. Merlin lowered his bag to the ground, all his stuff finally packed, and tried not to cry.

He wouldn't protect Arthur. He wouldn't see him become the king he was destined to become. He wouldn't…..

A twig snapped.

Arthur was stuck. He saw his missing manservant not thirty feet away, yet he couldn't bring himself to speak. He didn't know his name! Here they were, so close to each other, and still Arthur couldn't remember. What if he never remembered?

'Oh forget it. I don't care. I'll just have him introduce himself. Maybe when he does, I'll remember everything. Maybe that's how it works,' he thought at length. He took a step forward and a twig snapped under his foot.

His servant's head shot up. As soon as he saw Arthur, he looked scared and dropped his bag altogether. Arthur knew the look his friend wore. He was planning to run. "Hey," he greeted with a tiny smile, trying to calm the other male down. "My name is Ar-" The other man suddenly bolted out of the cave and took off through the forest. "Hey!" Arthur moved to follow, but suddenly the man was gone. "Wait!"

Dammit! He was losing him again! Always losing him! But this time, Arthur knew for a fact he wouldn't be coming back. Coming back….?

_"I'm going back to Ealdor."_

_"Of course." Bandits were attacking his home village, so of course his servant would want to go back and help. Arthur would go too if he could._

_"It's been an honor serving you," the younger man said softly._

_He looked at his servant in shock. "You'll be coming back?" he asked, and did not worry that he was showing too much concern. How could he act calm when he might be losing his best friend forever?_

_"She's my mother," said friend explained. "I've got to look after her before anyone else. You understand?"_

_Arthur looked away from his servant. He was losing him. "I'd do exactly the same." 'I should say something….something kind of meaningful….I'll probably never see him again.' "Well…," he tried, but nothing was coming to him. Finally he managed, "…You've been terrible. Really, I mean it, the worst servant I've ever had."_

_His servant friend laughed softly at the comment and then gave him a kind smile that Arthur did his best to return. 'I'll miss you,' Arthur tried to say through his eyes._

_"Thank you, Sire." They stared at each other for a moment longer, and his friend seemed to be saying 'I'll miss you too.' Then the servant boy turned to leave._

_Arthur took a deep breath. He didn't want to say good-bye just yet. "Merlin-"_

Arthur gasped. His name! It was such a simple, normal memory. But his name! His name was-

"MERLIN!" he yelled as loud as he could.

...

...

Merlin, quite a ways away, fell to his knees mid run and held his head. Arthur! Arthur was…..calling him! Merlin could feel all the memories flow through him as if he were a filter before exploding back into the world. He felt the world settle and closed his eyes. Could it be?

"Merlin! Come back here! You're supposed to come when I call! Merlin!"

Merlin smiled. He could hear Arthur's voice in his head though they were probably miles apart. And Arthur remembered! Arthur remembered….

...

...

Arthur gasped when a great wind picked up around him. When it died down, Merlin was standing there before him, with a watery smile on his face. It wasn't like he randomly appeared, he was just standing by a tree several feet away when Arthur opened his eyes after the wind was gone. Merlin was almost hiding behind the tree, as if nervous. Arthur grinned and motioned for him to come closer.

"Come on, Merlin. I'm not going to bite," he said in a playfully annoyed voice.

The smile on Merlin's face grew and he hurried over to where Arthur was standing. "My lord," he greeted. There was a moment where they just stared at each other, something Arthur was beginning to realize they did a lot, and then Arthur cleared his throat nervously and looked away. "You remember me."

Arthur looked back and nodded. His face was almost solemn. "Yes. I've known this world was wrong from the start. You never should have left, Merlin."

Merlin face screwed up at bit. "How could I have stayed? I made a deal to save your life! I would be erased so you would live. I don't think you would've reacted kindly to a random peasant walking into your room the next day that you didn't remember."

Arthur shook his head. "No. I would've had you thrown in jail. What I meant was you never should have made such a deal. My life is no more important than yours. I'm not worth sacrificing yourself to save me."

Merlin shook his head gently. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Arthur stared at Merlin in almost awe for a moment, then inwardly smirked and gave Merlin a curious look. "I never knew you were so keen to die for me," he said playfully.

Merlin smiled in kind. "Believe me….I'd do it any day."

Arthur kept smiling almost softly at his refound friend for a few moments longer, then suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. Merlin gasped. He was stiff in Arthur's arms for a moment, and then cautiously wrapped his arms around Arthur as well. The crowned prince smiled again and squeezed Merlin tighter for a moment before releasing him, but kept his hands on Merlin's shoulders as he pulled away.

"I'm glad your back….Merlin."

Merlin beamed at him. "Happy to be back, milord."

...

...

When they gathered back with the knights, they all looked like there had been a riddle they couldn't solve and suddenly they felt stupid because the answer had been obvious. Merlin rode on Arthur's horse back to Camelot, where Morgana held him tightly and apologized for not being able to help him and for forgetting him in the first place. Before he'd been able to catch his breath from that hug, Gwen had rushed in and tackled him to the floor. She was crying. She remembered meeting him when she didn't know him and how she'd forgotten him again and she knew it must have hurt because she saw the look on his face before he took off again and _she was so sorry_! Lancelot was long gone by that time and so Merlin didn't have to deal with his apologies….yet.

Gaius did not cry or apologize like Morgana and Gwen had. He and Merlin merely stared at each other for a long time. Then Merlin managed a shy, "Hello again…Gaius," and it seemed to break a trance. Gaius took three steps to reach Merlin and wrapped him in one of the warmest, happiest hugs Merlin had ever been given. It lasted much longer than either of the women's hugs had, but Merlin didn't mind because he was hugging back just as fiercely and for just as long as Gaius was.

"Welcome home."


	7. Epilogue

Many years passed after the memories of Merlin were returned to the world. The witch from the Isle of the Blessed never showed her face again to Merlin or Arthur.

Merlin became a powerful sorcerer, helped by Gaius and Arthur to keep it a secret. King Uther died of a fever four years later and Arthur became king. Merlin gave him the magical sword Excalibur and became Arthur's advisor and court sorcerer as they both brought magic back to the land and united the lands of Albion under one rule.

Morgana left to live with the druids soon after Arthur became king, saying there was something she had to do. Arthur made Lancelot a knight of Camelot and blessed the marriage between him and Guinevere two years later. He only felt slightly put down that she'd chosen the knight over him, the king. After all, he still had Merlin, and that was all he needed. The day he married Gwen and Lancelot, Arthur realized he was in love with his best friend.

By that time, Merlin could sense when Arthur was upset in any way and he coaxed Arthur into revealing his feelings. He'd given Arthur a smile so bright that the king was certain he would be invincible forever. He'd never been so happy in all his life. They took the relationship slow because Arthur was still getting used to the fact that he loved another man, but they were happy and in love, so it was alright.

Gwen bore a baby boy that same year and Arthur, according to the laws of the land, named him his successor and heir apparent to the throne. Morgana returned the day baby Elyon turned one year old. She brought with her the druid boy Mordred, who swore fealty to Arthur and apologized for his actions as a child. Merlin watched him like a hawk for three years, but all Mordred did was what Merlin did: risk his life for the king. So Arthur made him a knight of the round table and a court sorcerer.

As the witch had said, Merlin became widely known as the most powerful sorcerer who ever lived. His magic alone was enough to cover all the lands of Albion and make the crops grow more bountiful than ever before. He left that to the local witches and wizards though, and only took care of Camelot's crops and any city that had no sorcerer that needed it. When Elyon turned seven, and Merlin was thirty-five, Merlin saw the future for the first time with his own power. He cried for all that he saw and never looked into the future again on purpose. There were times when his magic showed him the future on its own, but Merlin did his best not to look. He said knowing too much of the future was dangerous and caused too many problems.

When Merlin was forty, Morgana and Mordred became an official couple. It was a twelve year age difference, but Mordred had been in love with her since he was a child and Morgana had come to see him as a gracious and handsome man as he grew older. Merlin only thought it awkward half the time.

Three years later, what Merlin had seen came to pass. A bitter man who had tried to become a sorcerer and failed caused a riot against the king. He told lies and spread deceit and soon had a large multitude of peasants and sorcerers on his side. They marched for Camelot castle and Merlin almost began to cry once more. He'd seen Arthur ride out into this battle, with his most loyal knights at his side, and he'd seen Arthur fall. So he rode out with Arthur, as he had a hundred times before, with Mordred, Morgana, and Lancelot and a large number of others, to face the enemy before it reached the city gates.

They met on the fields of Camlann at around midnight. The battle raged for hours and just as the first light of day streamed across the sky, Merlin felt a presence he'd long since thought dead, something he had not foreseen. Nimueh stood before him in battle with a sick little grin on her face. It was then that Merlin knew why Arthur would fall in this battle. There were enough sorcerers on the enemy's team to decimate Camelot, and only three sorcerers on Arthur's side in this battle. So far, Merlin had been trying to protect Arthur above all else and he'd been successful. Arthur had no wounds on him. But here stood a foe that would change all that.

Merlin lashed out at her, but she'd grown stronger too. She spoke as fast as lightening and threw a spell at Merlin at point blank range. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He could barely think or breathe. Mordred joined in, but Nimueh bound his magic and dealt a mortal blow to the much younger wizard. Merlin nearly broke Nimueh's hold over him at that, but she used the magic she'd taken from Mordred to strengthen the spell. One more word from the witch's mouth and Merlin knew he'd be lost forever, so he forced his mind to focus and sent a spell at her the same moment she finished her spell on him. At least she was gone too.

Merlin felt himself scramble, as if he'd been blown to pieces. The pieces fell through all of space and time until he finally settled in some place dark and quiet. He couldn't hear the sounds of battle, or the sounds of nature, or even his own breathing. Everything was silent and still.

On the battlefield, Arthur's arm was grazed by a sword and he began to bleed. He killed his opponent and looked around, knowing something must have happened to Merlin if he'd been hurt, but he couldn't see his lover anywhere. Then he saw Morgana run across the field and heard a familiar voice echo in his mind: Mordred. When Arthur reached them, Morgana was weeping over a bloody body that was barely clinging to life.

'He's gone,' Mordred spoke in their minds. 'The witch…used my powers and hers to….hold him down….He killed her but then….he dissolved into nothing and I felt his magic vanish.'

Mordred looked at Morgana then and Arthur heard him no more. He left them to their goodbyes and ran back into the battle, hacking and slashing everything he could see. His heart felt like a great black hole that he couldn't mend. In the end, it was a sorcerer who got him with a magically enhanced sword. They easily sliced through his left arm, severing it from his body, and then ran him through. Arthur cut off their head before he fell. Morgana's magic exploded over the battlefield and all the enemies held their heads in pain before falling down dead to the ground. Mordred had died.

Arthur died soon after, with Morgana hovering above him in the dark that encompassed his mind. She was weeping harder than he'd ever seen her and he wanted to tell her it was alright even though it clearly wasn't. But his mouth wouldn't open anymore. His vision was leaving him and it was getting harder to breathe. Then a familiar voice spoke in his head, one he hadn't heard in twenty-one years, and Arthur felt content to leave this world.

_'The memories you helped to create in this lifetime will spread forever, my lord Pendragon. The power I have gathered from such memories, however faint, will bring him back to you once again in another life. Go in peace, sweet king. Your destiny is not yet over, nor is his.'_

…

…

Arthur opened his eyes slowly, the barely awakened sun beginning to peek in through his window blinds. Even staring at his apartment ceiling, Arthur's mind was hazy and focused on the past. After several long minutes, he finally realized he was staring at a modern day roof instead of the battlefield at Camlann and he shot up in bed.

"What?" he breathed out. In a black tank top and grey shorts, no one would believe twenty-one year old Arthur was Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King of Camelot who would unite the lands of Albion.

He had tried not to think about his time as the King of Camelot, every time he did it just reminded him of the fact that he was now twenty-one and Merlin was still not in his life. The witch had said that she would ensure Merlin was with him in this life and yet he was alone. Ever since he was born, Arthur had known who he used to be. Everyone thought he was some sort of genius because his history, math, reading, and language skills were so developed at such a young age. Arthur knew no one would believe him If he told them it was because he was the reincarnation of a king, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to be only slightly above average.

He'd been waiting for Merlin from day one. He'd looked out for anything magical. He'd searched his memories and tried to find the power that witch had spoken of in an attempt to find his missing warlock. Still, he'd never had such a vivid dream; something that made him forget he was a modern day man when he woke up.

Did that mean anything? Would he find Merlin soon? He was twenty-one when he met Merlin the first time, so maybe he would find Merlin now that he was twenty-one again. Arthur still had no clue what he was to do in this life: become king, stop global warming, end world hunger, save all puppies, cure cancer, end all conflict, unite all the world in a new Albion, be a father? Without Merlin, Arthur had no clue.

With a head full of questions and a heart building in hope, Arthur took a shower, brushed his hair and teeth, picked out some nice jeans, a Pendragon red t-shirt with deep yellow swirls across it, and a brown duster, ate breakfast, and hurried out the door. He had nowhere to be and no idea where he was really headed, but he felt he needed to be outside in the world today. Every moment could mean a chance meeting with his destiny.

…

…

The darkness shifted. Knowledge descended into the abyss and was absorbed. Power shone in all corners of the dark and silent and Merlin woke up. He'd been asleep for centuries, though it felt like moments, yet he felt all the knowledge of the years settling deep in his being. Every ounce of magic returned to him and his eyes shown gold with it all.

He could hear everything. He could smell everything. He could feel everything. He knew everything. He could sense...

"Arthur...," Merlin breathed out.

All at once, the dark fell away. Merlin saw his life spin and thread itself together around him and watched the memories play out before his eyes. He felt his scattered pieces come together and suddenly he was standing next to a large tree in a park. He wore black pants, a light black jacket, a simple blue shirt with sleeves that barely peeked out the ends of his jacket sleeves, and blue and white sneakers. In front of Merlin stood a woman with long blonde hair wearing a simple forest green shirt and light blue jeans.

He smiled at her. "It's you," he greeted. "You were planning this all along. You knew what would happen."

She nodded, the sorrowful look gone from her face. "Yes, my lord. I waited quite a long time for you to come in search of me. I lived my life in the knowledge that one day you and I would meet and I could be of service to you."

"Thank you."

She looked off into the distance. "Your king has been waiting for you, Emrys. You should go to him now."

Merlin beamed at her. "I know." His smile fell to a gentle level. "Who are you?"

She smiled at him. "My name is Tethella. I was born many years your senior and have lived only to serve you, as you live to serve the King."

"I will see you again, Tethella," Merlin said assuredly before he ran toward the entrance of the park and to where he knew Arthur would be.

…

…

Arthur was on the train. He'd been on the train for two hours, simply trying to decide where to get off. When the train stopped at its next stop, he got off. He hadn't even looked to see where he'd gotten off at. He just got off.

Arthur looked around himself, seeing where there was to go from here, and froze. Running into the station was a very familiar face. Merlin stopped when he saw Arthur and Arthur watched him catch his breath. They stared at each other, not speaking or moving, just being.

"Merlin...?" Arthur breathed out.

Merlin blinked once before a huge smile overtook his face and he ran forward, launching himself into Arthur's waiting arms. They wrapped their arms around each other and held on as tightly as they could.

Arthur felt the tears beginning to fall. "Dear lord, Merlin," Arthur gasped out into Merlin's shoulder. "I've missed you. I love you so much."

"I love you too. I'll love you forever."

And right there, in the middle of a crowded station, they kissed more passionately than ever before. Arthur still didn't know why he'd been brought back into the world, but now he would face whatever it was with confidence because he had Merlin at his side again.


End file.
